


The Demon Bond

by ValentineDevil



Series: The Demon Bond [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Come Swallowing, Demon Bucky Barnes, Demons, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, Including..., M/M, Military, Military Training, More tags...., Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sexual Content, Soldiers, Training, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2018-08-12 11:17:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 268,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7932607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValentineDevil/pseuds/ValentineDevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve hadn't known what to expect. Even with all his training he feels unprepared.</p>
<p>Any presumptions and expectations he did have went down the drain at the sight of him... of the demon with those ice-cold eyes that watch him. One blink and then the demon is upon him, metal arm wrapped around his throat, like a lion pawing a mouse.</p>
<p>The cold fingers against his pulse don't hurt.</p>
<p>The demon portrays no evil intent, choosing to wrap its shadows around Steve's limbs as he leans his human form closer to the cadet, pink lips ghosting over the shell of Steve's ear as he breathes the human in.</p>
<p>Steve's heart is racing so fast, so quick, it would have been hard for the demon not to have heard it, to have seen his weakness. But by then it's too late: the demon lets out a deafening scream, hair shadowing his eyes as he crumples to the floor.</p>
<p>This is his chance. </p>
<p>Steve's only chance.</p>
<p>It's now or never.</p>
<p>No regrets.</p>
<p>Even if it is the most foolish decision Steve will ever make.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning: Let Shadows Emerge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

"You have all studied three years for this. If you fail the exam, its your own god-damn fault. Do I care? No. Have I wasted my time with you lot? Probably. Will you all join the military and save the world? Unlikely. But. I suppose. Best of luck." The professor smirks, eyeing up the keen twenty year olds who truly have no idea what they are getting themselves into. "You may begin."

Steve quickly opens to the first page of the booklet entitled _'History of Demons and Modern Society'_. He has worked so hard for this- to be given this chance. Five years ago Steve Rogers was skinny and sick. Five years ago Steve's father had died in battle. Five years ago he and his mother received compensation for their loss. Four years ago, Steve had gotten the medical treatment he needed to stay alive; grown muscle where there was nothing before. Three years ago Steve had gained 40Ibs and was finally not only the right weight, but healthy enough to join the pre-military academy that his father had gone to.

Now Steve is taking his final exam, and -if he passes- he will go on to join the New York's Military Demon Programme, and become bonded to his own demon: finally becoming the soldier he has always wanted to be.

 

 ** **1\. Name**** ****the**** ****five main**** **_**classes**_** ****of**** ****demon.****

_Fire. Water. Earth. Wind. Electricity._

****2.**** ****Name the three higher classes of demon.****

_Light. Dark. Death._

****3\. What is** ** **t** ****he highest class of demon?** **

_Death._

****4\. What are the demon 'levels'?** **

_Used to categorise the strength/power of a demon. Level one being the lowest and level one-hundred the highest. A demon's level can change- becoming higher or even lower._

****5.**** ****Name the three**** **_**types**_** ****of**** ****demons.****

_Warriors. Tricksters. Seducers._

****6.**** ****Explain some**** ****of the characteristics of demons.****

_Demons have different characteristics, including wings, horns, tails, markings and talismans. While wings are often used for flight, they can also be used in combat like horns and tails._

_Markings however, are used more for the branding of demons, signifying the type or class of demons (these are often naturally found on demons). There are also markings/symbols which meanings are yet still to be identified and uploaded into the marking database._

_Talismans are the far less common characteristic and have 'magical' properties demons use to their advantage unless they are bonded._

****7\. Which**** ****demons are capable of shape-shifting?****

_All demons are capable of shape-shifting to some degree, usually as part of the element they manipulate. Only demons level 15 and above can take on life forms, and only level 25+ demons are capable of shifting into human form._

****8\. Describe t**** **h** ** **e compatibility between a human and**** ****its demon, and its importance in military efforts.****

_How well a human is able to control his or her demon, and draw on its energy depends on the compatibility. Compatibility of 50% is sufficient in the military. The higher the compatibility, the more easily levels can be gained, and the stronger the weapons that can be manifested by the human through using demon's power._

****9\. Date and describe The Demon War.** **

_1914-1945. The demon war is the only demon war known of that bled through the Netherworld gates into our realm. It is the only known record of demons killing their own kind, and was when the military set up the Demon Programme: where captured demons were used, and their energies transferred to soldiers, using the demon's powers to kill other_ _demons._ _ ~~instead of using mere human weaponry.~~_

****10\. How are demons captured and bonded?** **

_The human's aura is connected to one of many gateways to the Netherworld, enticing their (hopefully) compatible demon through into the human realm, where the demon is grounded and restrained by a specialised 'collar' that forms around the demon's throat. The human then draws on the demon's power for the first time using the collar, creating a bond if compatibility is sufficient. After this, the human can summon the demon's power and manifest weapons without going through the collar, which remains for identification means only._

 

It's effortless, fifteen minutes and he's already 1/10th finished, with plenty of time spare for double, and then triple checking his answers. Steve is writing the exam with such ease, he might as well be writing his own biography. Endless nights in the library covered in papers, books and ink seem to be paying off in the best way possible.

Steve's hand shakes slightly as he passes in the exam, not through nerves, but excitement. The professor gives him a knowing look, transferring the paper to one of the examiners who will mark it here and now; advanced computing systems in hand. Everyone else sits anxiously in their seats as they watch their exams be graded, and their futures foretold. Steve gives a quick glance to his left, checking on his friend who he knows wants this as desperately as he does himself. Sam appears calm, the only giveaway of any doubts being his slender fingers tapping against the desk in an unsteady rhythm.

"Steven Rogers."

Steve can't get out of his seat fast enough to grab the sealed envelope from the woman holding it out to him. Quickly muttering a thank you to the examiner, Steve hurries out the door, letter gripped tightly between bony fingers. He is barely out the metallic door before he he rips the paper open, eyes immediately scanning the dark ink.

 

****Steven G. Rogers.** **

****26/06/2467** **

****Pre-military Demon Course.** **

****History of Demons and Modern Society- Final Exam: 99** **

****Overall grade: A** **

****New York Military Academy- Entry Accepted** **

 

"Congratulations, kid," the professor mumbles under his breath, studying the small blond with amusement in his eyes. Steve clutches his results to his chest, like a mother holding her newborn. After all of his work, the little guy from Brooklyn will finally be on the last stretch of his journey to become a soldier. A man worthy of respect, a hero in the eyes of mortals, and a tamer of beasts. Steve couldn't have tried hard enough to keep his smile at bay. In three weeks he will be training at one of the most prestigious academies in the world.

Those three weeks can't come sooner.

        

Steve is out of his depth.

Warm blood pumps through his veins, pushing hard against capillary walls as Steve's heart works overtime. Large vehicles spit heavy fumes on all sides, soldiers marching on in uniform. People, researchers, dart in and out of grey buildings that could have looked brand new (and probably were) if it weren't for the black scorch marks running up the walls.

Demon.

Fire class.

Level 40.

Warrior type.

This much is obvious. It's basic textbook knowledge, and yet, no pictures could ever compare to the real damage demons can inflict in the human realm.

It would have been a lie to say that Steve isn't exhilarated.

"Steve! Steve Rogers!" a deep voice echoes above the industrial noise. Steve looks up to find a tall and muscular figure striding towards him, dark hair cut too short and grin just as wide as he remembers.

"Sam!" Steve beckons, pulling his friend into a brief and yet welcomed embrace.

"You excited?"

"Yeah, I've been waiting for this since I was fifteen. You?"

"Nervous as hell," Sam jokes, erupting a laugh from the blond. Slotting an arm around Steve's lean shoulders, the pair journey inside the main building. The hallways are the same as the outside -although lacking demon traces- and filled with dozens of bodies darting around.

"What demon do you think you'll get?" Steve asks as they enter the major lecture theatre.

"I seriously hope one from the electricity class," Sam replies as they take their seats. The room is oddly quite, only a few other cadets are present in the room, all from different pre-military courses across the world. "And you? What class do you want?"

"I haven't given it much thought, actually," Steve admits, dropping his head. "I've been concentrating so hard just to be able to get here... I think an earth class would be cool though."

Sam nods his head in agreement.

"I could definitely see you with an earth class".

Before either of them can say anymore, two more students walk in, followed closely behind by who Steve can only presume as their new teacher. The man is tall, with broad shoulders and dark skin, trailed by a black trench coat, and as if to compliment the look, an eye patch. The entire room goes silent; as eerie as when the wind stops on a dim night. If the war-broken teacher wasn't enough to quiet young tongues, the terrifying figure that slithers after him sure is.

Although the creature takes on a humanoid shape, its scaly wings that scrape across the floor, with its hunched shoulders and ram-horns make it look more dragon-like than anything. If dragons were real. But, no, this is a demon before them.

For most of the rookies, this is the first demon they have ever laid eyes on.

Steve watches the creature with sincere interest, taking note of the pale, almost dead like skin, and wonders why it isn't in its true human form. It takes the blond less than three seconds to work it out: it's to make a point. The man finally stops at the front, facing the cadets head on while the demon seated, crouching beside him. Even though the other cadets had turned their attention back to the teacher, Steve can't help but stare at the inch wide black strip that collars the demon, silver symbols almost gleaming in the sharp light.

"The name's Nick Fury. I will be your instructor and mentor for the next several years. At any point, I can kick you out of the programme. So pay attention, and most importantly, stay alive,” Fury warns, hands clenched behind his back. "Any questions before I start?"

Steve watches hands raise immediately, only to be dismissed by the old soldier.

"No? Good. You will be connected and bonded with your demons tomorrow. If a suitable compatibility is not reached, you will have one more chance the next day. You then have the rest of the week to get used to your new bond, and to memorise your schedules. You will NOT be in the field for at least a year. If I hear even one complaint about the type or class of demon you get: you're out of the programme.

"Demons are dangerous. Lethal even. Never underestimate one. It could be the death of you.

"And do not. I swear, do _not_ have sex with your demon... At least until a few weeks after the bond, alright? Now, you're probably wondering 'whats that old man on about'. Well, at least one or two of you will get a seducer type, and one of you may even get a trickster- if you have intimate relations with your demon while the bond is still new, it is very possible that the demon will overpower you, and you will no longer be in control. But best be it a rule that you don't fuck with them."

Several cadets exchange looks at this, snickering and gossiping amongst themselves. Steve overhears one of them saying that's how the scorch marks outside came to be, when one of the cadets lost control to their fire class. Although it is rarer for older cadet to lose control of their demon, it is not at all impossible. She was kicked out before you could say _'one more chance'_ , forcefully severing the bond that put the girl in hospital for a few weeks along with the extensive burns.

By the time Fury had gone over all safety procedures -and finally answered some questions- five hours had passed, and all seven rookies were busy trying to cram in all of the new rules they had to follow, and make sure that their demons obeyed. Leaving them with their uniform at the front (giving any straying minds the chance to turn around and pretend the whole thing never happened) Fury and his demon left them with mere coordinates to their dorms.

Camouflage trousers with matching caps, white tank tops, and grey hoodies in hand (jackets yet to be embroidered with their names) the cadets group together to find the dorms. Steve takes the walk as an opportunity to learn their names, although some of them clearly aren't into getting to know one another. The rookies consist of Steve, Sam, Tony, Bruce, Clint, Wanda and Rhodey. It's the smallest group of cadets the academy had taken on since 2020.

The dorms consist of three interlinking buildings. All trainee males in one run down tower, females in another, and demons in a slightly more up to date facility- with extensive security measurements and restraining equipment: its purpose to keep demons in check while their counter-parts sleep. They are taking no more risks since the last incident.

Although they each have a small, damp room to themselves, Steve is delighted to know that Sam is right next door. Albeit the blond is not so excited when he finds out the damp is from an earth class that had made its way into the dorms the previous evening.

"You're kidding?" Tony mocks the third year, his soup-spoon halfway to being demolished lay frozen in the air.

"I ain't. Mutt has been gettin' into the dorm all week. Wouldn't worry bout it though- only goes to the second floor."

"Why the second floor?" Steve asks, arms leaning on the dinning table.

"Because thats where its 'master' is," the older man says matter of factly.

"So?" Sam interjects.

"Likes to get down and dirty, if you know what I mean," the man sniggers, wiggling his eyebrows.

"Oh...Oh!" Steve blushes, more than embarrassed by the whole situation.

A few of the other guys laugh along, but Tony gives Steve a sideways look, as if deeming him the one immature. The dinner hall is full of cadets like themselves, shovelling food into their mouths like they hadn't eaten in days. Conversation flows, but then Wanda makes a move to get up, and Steve turns to where she was heading. An electronic board flashes by the wall, symbolising a new notice. Steve accompanies the brunette, the words 'rookies' and 'demons' catching his eye.

"The times for our bondings?" Steve ponders out loud. Wanda mutter a _'yes_ ', her slim finger trailing the bright screen to find her name. Steve copies, his body soon overshadowed as the rest of the new cadets follow suit.

**_Steven G. Rogers~ 13:00_ **

The blond sighs, relieved that he wouldn't be last, or first for that matter. Steve is intrigued to see what kind of demon he will get, as well as the rest of his class mates. Back at the table, the third year Steve recalls as either William or Wesley asks them about the demon bondings, and what they thought the process would be like.

"It's tough, it drains a lot outta you," Steve replies, eyes cast down to the iron table.

"Ooh! Looks like someone did their homework," the third year claps, a wicked smile on his face. "But seriously though. A lot of energy is used in the process, it's physically and mentally tiring, that's why you practically get a week off afterwards."

"What demon did you get?" Bruce questions, gripping the ends of his jumper nervously.

"A fire warrior- level twenty-nine," he boasts with a grin. "Now level thirty-eight!"

"Nice," Clint exclaims. And indeed so, level twenty-nine is an impressive figure, especially for a cadet, whose demon usually only begins at level twenty-three to twenty-seven.

"Thats slow progress though," Tony retorts, taking a sip of his water.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when compatibility is only fifty percent. It's slow, but my demon is decent enough to make it work. It's difficult to get compatibility of more than sixty percent these days, seventy percent is the best some soldiers have around here. I think Fury and his demon is seventy-five percent compatibility though."

A few awes permeates the blond's ears, as well as bets on who would get the 'better demon'. Steve shakes his head when Rhodey asks him if he wants to wager.

"Nah, thanks though. I'm going to bed." Steve yawns, glancing at his watch that reads 21:56.

"Me too,” Sam agrees, standing with Steve to head back to the dorm. Once outside the hall, Sam nudges his shoulder against Steve's, only the silver moon's rays and corporate lighting illuminate their path.

"Hey!" The smaller man complains, though a smile still makes its way past the corners of his mouth.

"We're here, we're actually here." Sam laughs, hands digging into his pockets.

"Yeah, its a modern day miracle, eh?"

"No. We worked hard enough for this- you more than anyone. For someone so small, you sure have a shit load of determination."

Steve finds himself giggling at that, pearly whites shinning as they trudge across the asphalt and muddy landscape.

"Can only go up from here, Steve," Sam declares, opening his bedroom door.

"You mean, there's a long way to fall down now if anything goes wrong," Steve jokes, although his gut still twists at the thought.

"Best not to look back then."

        

Shards of golden light filter through the curtain drapes, brightening the dingy room Steve would learn to call 'home'. An iron desk sits adjacent to the singular bed where the blond lay resting. Opposite, a metal wardrobe and chest-of-drawers lay pressed against the wall, their surfaces scratched in such a way that they resembled hand prints, or fingers running down a chalk board.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Steve's eyelids flutter as his hand pats the edge of the desk in search of the watch, hair at awkward angles as he fiddles for the button to switch off the alarm. With a gentle groan, Steve checks the time, only to curl up under the sheets once again. Steve's eyes quickly widened when the time finally seemed to register with his brain.

 _"Shit!"_ Steve curses.

He was supposed to go down to breakfast with Sam before the cadets begin to be bonded with their demons. Tugging on his uniform, Steve loosely slips on his dark combat boots in the process, tying them up as he leaves the dorms. Tony observes Steve hopping down the hallway, back arched in an effort to reach his laces.

"You alright there, Rogers?" Tony smirks, strolling alongside the shorter man as if he had all the time in the world. Steve makes a non-committal sound that comes out more of a growl than a _'yeah'_. As soon as the blond finishes (completely effortlessly, he swears) tying his shoes, he makes a beeline for the exit, leaving the kid who has more money than he knows what to do with behind.

Steve spots Sam almost instantly in the dinner hall- the room is completely empty apart from the pair of them and Clint. They exchange waves briefly as Steve grabs a bowl of granola, coming to sit with the other rookies.

"Someone sleep in?" Sam teases, downing the rest of his juice.

Steve _tsk'ed_ , shaking his head, "of course not."

"Sure." Is Sam's droned-out reply. The pair trade dumb smiles at that, before Clint interrupts.

"I'm going to wait outside for Wanda, they should be finished soon."

"Wanda is bonding with her demon now?" Steve questions. Clint nods his head slightly, picking up his food tray.

"I hope so, she's been gone close to two hours now," Sam states, shrugging. "Not sure if that's a good or bad thing."

"Maybe it's because she got a wind class demon," The blond suggests.

"What makes you say that?" a deep voice booms. Steve glances up to find himself face to face with Tony.

"Because wind classes are more difficult to capture, and handle into human form if capable," Steve answers quietly.

"How would you even know that? Its wasn't in our specification for the exam," Tony retorts, clearly displeased.

"I did extra reading, " Steve lies, albeit it's true in a sense. He has read his father's journal that documents his time at the academy. Clint chuckles as he walks away, muttering a _'see you guys later'_ as he goes.

"Of course you did. Sometimes, Rogers, I want to punch you in those perfect teeth of yours."

"Come on man, you've known us for a _day_. You're just paranoid because Steve's smarter than you," Sam interjects, folding his arms. "You got competition for the first time in your life."

"Sam!" Steve squawks, the lightest of pink blushes appearing on his cheeks.

"Yeah, well, he might be book-smart, but I know all there is about the technology we use on demons- my dad invented some of this stuff!" Tony brags, glaring at Sam with all intent to burn a hole right through him.

"Listen, I don't like bullies; I don't care where they're from. If we're going to have a problem here, its not going to work- we're meant to be a team. In a few years, we're going to be out in the field, and only we will have each other's backs," Steve coaches, voice calm. He had made a promise to his mother to not make any new enemies, no more than he had too. A moment's hesitation, then Tony sighs, as his distaste for the blond seeps away with the exhale.

"Fine. We're good."

"Great. Maybe you can show me how some of that advanced technology works later then," Steve proposes, appealing to Tony's nature.

"Sure, if you enrich me with this special knowledge of yours," he returns, smiling at the blond.

"Just like that, we're supposed to be cool?" Sam huffs, watching Tony like a hawk, or perhaps a falcon. Steve was about to answer when Sam's watch began to flash. "Damn, gotta go. I'll see you later, Steve?" he asks, already leaving the table.

"Definitely, let me know what demon you get,” Steve replies enthusiastically.,

"Will do" Sam calls back as he disappears out the door.

It's just coming round to 9am, and Steve isn't sure what to do until his time arrives. He is nervous, a little, yes, but now that it's getting closer, he is almost feverish with excitement. Steve wonders what type of demon he would become bonded to, and excuses himself from the table as Rhodey and Bruce potter in.

It feels strange as Steve hikes across the grounds, taking note of some of the larger trucks that have odd symbols painted on their sides. It's likely the vehicles are used to transport demons, although the markings mean nothing to the cadet. They say a leopard can't change its spots- can a demon change what's in its DNA? These 'mutts' (as some of the higher-ups call them) have been used by humans for over five-hundred years. And one must wonder, what exactly happened, for humans to be able to do such a thing? Steve frowns at the thought.

The young cadet surveys more of the grounds, moving in between the buildings set up like a maze. Most of the buildings are one level, their walls wide, while others are longer, and some taller. But all are metallic. And upon closer inspection, Steve fines the material to be close to iron, but its properties suggest a far more complex alloy. In all of the textbooks Steve has read, nothing said anything about demons being allergic to any types of metal, and yet the place is crawling with it. Practically everything is indeed shiny, silvery metal. It makes Steve scowl as he heads back to the dorms.

Once in the relative familiarity of his room, Steve attempts to unpack his belongings from his bag (that was brought to their rooms the previous evening) and even though his aim was to make it all look tidy, his clothes end up abandoned on the floor as he hauled his textbooks to his desk. Steve is halfway skimming through the first book in search for answers when his watch bleeps at him, signalling him a message from Sam. Steve taps the message open instantly.

 ** **Sam:**** _ELECTRICITY WARRIOR!!!!!!!!!_

Steve can practically feel his friend's enthusiasm radiate off the screen, and the rookie could not have been happier for his friend. Sam is bonded with his demon, a demon he had hoped to get, and Steve can't pull the goofy grin from his face. But now there is a doubt- the cadet has no idea what class or type of demon he wants. That, and he has no idea what his demon will be _like._

 ** **Steve:**** _Awesome! How do you feel?_

Only a few moments go by before he gets his answer.

 ****Sam:** ** _Like I got shocked by 450 volts. They've given me some pills. Sent us off to some room for someone to analyse the demon._

 ****Steve:** ** _To test compatibility, level? What does your demon look like?_

 ****Sam:** ** _Well it aint in a human form...Think of a red bird. A big, red bird. Morphed with a human....With crazy sparks coming out of it._

 ****Steve:** ** _Badass_

 ** **Sam:**** _I know right!_

Steve leaves it at that, going back to his search that had him resorting to the internet for answers. Nothing. Steve begins to think it's just because the metal is strong, durable, resistant against anyone or anything that would rampage on the academy. But it just doesn't seem like the real reason, and perhaps the young man is just too curious for his own good. It's a flaw, one that Steve will only sometimes admit.

Before Steve realises it, 12 o'clock had tumbled by, and the cadet isn't sure if he feels like eating. The only motivation Steve has to go eat lunch is that he has to remain strong- he can not let this chance fall through his fingers.

Steve virtually falls over his own feet when he sees Wanda sat at the lunch table, her demon right beside her. The cadet was right- it's a wind class, but he couldn't have predicted the beauty of the creature.

Wanda's demon is a seducer, and if Steve was asked if he found the demon attractive, to say no would be a huge lie. Taking on a human form, the demon sprouts thick white hair, with eyes that look blue one moment, and green the next. He (and this Steve is even surer of, if the bulge is anything to go by) wears black trousers and a grey long-sleeved t-shirt, passing for a human if only the black band around his throat didn't give him away.

Tearing his eyes from the demon, Steve grabs the nearest sandwich from the counter top by the kitchen. Food in hand, he quickly scurries out of the hall, the demon's eyes following his every flinch. The cadet blushes at his erratic behaviour- this is unlike him- to be hindered in such a way. In all honesty, Steve had never seen a demon before coming to the academy, and through all his research he thought himself prepared.

But seeing a demon...looking so _human_ _,_ so _attractive_ _,_ it unsettles something inside the rookie. Of course, the demon isn't his 'type of person': he has found the male sex appealing in the past, but he has always been a believer of what's inside a person counting for more. Actions should speak louder than appearances, and the consequences should not out-weigh _intent_ _._ Perhaps that's a rather naive and foolish philosophy to have. Nonetheless, Steve is stubborn in more ways than one.

Lost in his own dark thoughts, Steve doesn't even hear his friend shouting for him. When a shadow obscures the cadet's view of the dusty-tarred path, Steve looks up to find Sam grinning ear-to-ear, but only the blond perceives the swollen circles beneath his eyes and the droplet of sweat upon his forehead. A split-second later Steve observes the small demon posed atop Sam's shoulder.

"I thought it was bigger?" Steve questions, raising his eyebrows.

"Pocket edition," Sam jests, the demon tilting its head side to side. "It can change size- but not into human form."

"What level is it?"

"Twenty four. I know its not impressive, but our compatibility is sixty percent!" Sam's grin couldn't have possibly been any wider.

"Sixty? With that percentage of compatibility it'll be level thirty easily by next year!"

"Jealous?" Sam teases, nudging his arm against his friend. Steve scoffs, folding his arms in mock offence. "When are you getting bonded?"

The young cadet checks his watch briefly, to discover that he only has half an hour left.

"Soon."

"Well, good-luck....Are you going to eat that?"

"What?" Steve quickly gazed at the sandwich Sam was pointing to hopefully. "Nah, here, you have it. I'll grab something to eat later."

"You sure?" Sam asks, slowly taking the bread deliciously stuffed with ham.

"Yeah. Yeah, take it."

"Alright then. Thanks, man. I'll catch up with you later: let me know how it goes". Sam clasps a hand briefly on Steve's shoulder, leaving him to wander to the laboratory.

It isn't too far, but it's surprisingly difficult to find, namely because the building sat half in the ground, security embedded around the construction. After showing half a dozen armed guards his ID badge, Steve finally came to the last few steps that lead into the laboratory's main chamber. The room is bathed in heavy white lighting and computer screens which surrounded the centre- here rests a thick metallic archway, coloured wires pouring out of it to the machinery at the edges of the room.

_A gateway to the Netherworld._

However, what makes the archway more than just a simple archway, are the golden symbols etched into its surface. As Steve looks around, he observes cloaked figures in prayer around the outskirts of the chamber, holding between their palms deep grey amulets. Red ink stains a thin pathway from each hooded figure, joining to form a spiral on the floor beneath the archway.

Suddenly, a hand on the cadet's back leads him towards the gateway, forcing him to stand at the very edge of the large spiral; to his dismay, it smells like blood. Another set of fingers paint a black ring around him, overlapping slightly with the red, delicate symbols upon the boundary.

"Are you ready, cadet?" Came Fury's voice far behind him, scrutinising his every move. Steve hesitates a moment before replying with a clear _'Yes, sir'._ The rookie fails to catch his next words as two suction pads are situated apart on his temple, the wires connected to them tracing back to the computers. Steve tries his best to listen to the voices, but all he can hear his his heart singing in his ears.

"Systems all ready to fire, sir."

"Take a breath, cadet. Don't close your eyes."

"Focus on the gateway, let your essence flow."

"Start procedure."

"Shield down. Systems firing."

"Portal opening in three...two...one."

All at once the archway begins to be filled with electrical energy, pencil-thin orange sphere swirling as it forms, growing larger and larger. The mechanisms work overtime, the sound of pieces of metal scrapping together like the sound of a freight train saturate the air. The chamber seems to turn dark around the edges, the chanting men being consumed by it. Now the larva-like-light swells under the archway, reaching its peak, only for the red markings to radiate into copper-coloured lines.

The demon steps through the gateway.

Steve hadn't known what to expect. Even with all his training he felt unprepared.

Any presumptions and expectations he did have went down the drain at the sight of him... of the demon with those ice-cold eyes that watch him. One blink and then the demon is upon him, metal arm wrapped around his throat, like a lion pawing at a mouse.

The cold fingers against his pulse don't hurt.

The demon portrays no evil intent, choosing to wrap its shadows around Steve's limbs as he leans his human form closer to the cadet, pink lips ghosting over the shell of Steve's ear as he breathes the human in. Its raven-like wings flutter heavy against the floor, almost cradling Steve's sides, ghosting ever so softly next to the cadet's shoulders. A silver talisman dangles across the demon's naked chest, a rusted symbol carved into its surface, hitting his chest twice before physics seemed to regain conscience. The demon's dark hair tickles Steve's jaw; his cheek as the creature catches his gaze, standing a foot above the rookie, long and muscular limbs screaming danger, but the human doesn't have it in him to move.

Steve's heart is racing so fast, so quick, it would have been hard for the demon not to have heard it, to have seen his weakness. But by then it's too late: the demon lets out a deafening scream, hair shadowing his eyes as he crumples to the floor. A black collar burns the demon's skin as it assembles, trapping the fiend in this mortal realm.

This is his chance.

Steve's only chance.

It's now or never.

No regrets.

Even if it is the most foolish decision Steve will ever make.

A strange current radiates from the demon as he kneels in front of Steve by the interconnecting spirals, face wretched in agony as he fights against the collar. Steve feels a prickling sensation at the tips of his fingers as he clenches them, taking one deep breath as he pulls against the invisible current. Every muscle twitches in the cadet's body, every nerve fizzing, each hair upon his skin searing with this electrical energy that can't even begin to be compared to the greatest storm.

Suddenly Steve's body is consumed by a burning power, pupil's hazing over as the demon's power courses through his veins. Grey signs immerse into the sleek collar of the fiend, each symbol shining red once, before turning permanently silver.

Steve gasps as he allows the current to stream back into the demon, knees weak though he still defiantly stands, even if the only thing keeping him steady is his hand upon the creature's shoulder. The bond settles between them, and with this the demon becomes quiet along with the rest of the chamber. The archway whirrs to a steady silence, the gateway collapsing in on itself as the spirals become a thick, coal-like substance. The chanting comes to a halt as the darkness dissolves, although what can't be seen are the shadows that wrap themselves around Steve's soul.


	2. Like Dying Embers, Does Hope Not Stem From Darkness?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ One:  
> *Steve completed his final pre-military demon course and was accepted to join New York Academy's Demon Military Programme  
> *Steve became bonded with his demon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited :)

****Steve's breath comes out in ragged gasps, the room suddenly cold and too hot at the same time. It's surreal, the sensation that creeps through Steve's body, like he had just ran for miles and dived into a freezing river. His muscles ache and his bones spark with the residue of the current. He feels stronger, but his physical appearance hadn't changed except for the sweat that runs down his back and covers his forehead. The cadet's fingers grip tighter on the demon's warm skin as his knees wobble, threatening to give way. When the pulsating blood in his ears calms to slow, broken waves, Steve breathes one last sigh before his lungs finally seem to get the air they need.

The rookie places his other hand on the demon's shoulders, only to pull back when he feels a cold hardness there. Metallic plates fill where there was once flesh, ending a few inches from the fiend's neck and wrapping around a small portion of his side, embedding into the first set of ribs that are otherwise covered in muscle. The limb is a heavy silver colour with no symbols to compliment it; Steve would have wondered what the demon went through to end up in such a way if it wasn't for the weight of sleep that pulls at him. The creature scratches curiously at the collar that imprisons him, angling his throat as if he could pull the device off with ease. But the demon stops after a moment and his arms fall to his sides, feathered wings drooping across the floor like a dead bird, as he slowly looks up to meet Steve's gaze.

Whispers impregnate the chamber, though the bonded pair are oblivious to them until the second scientists crowd them. One woman hands the blond a plastic cup of water and three white powdered capsules, which Steve takes without a second guess. Simultaneously, a scientist pulls away the suction pads, muttering with his co-worker who is quick to check the cadet's vitals: all of which remain normal, or Steve assumes so since he wasn't taken to medical. More researchers and demonologists (demon experts) surround the fiend who still kneels on the floor, peering up at Steve even when a needle is stuck into his arm, blue liquid pouring into the tube. Barely a few minutes later and the demon officially became dated into the military's system, set to be processed.

As soon as the scientists had materialised, they disperse, talking among themselves as computers stir and doors spring open. Before Steve could ask any questions, Fury confronts him, the old soldier looking his demon up and down -though the fiend's eyes never leave Steve's body- before turning back to the cadet.

"Go out of this building. Turn ninety degrees clockwise and walk one hundred metres. Show your ID and find room 179. Don't get lost, and don't do anything stupid."

"Yes, sir," Steve replies hesitantly, straightening his posture as much as he can before grimacing at the sharp pain than sizzles down his spine. The cadet looks briefly at the demon, unsure what to say- never mind what to _do_ _._ The rookie turns towards the exit after a moment, albeit he only moves a couple of steps, glimpsing back at the demon.

 _His_ demon.

The fiend glances between Steve and Fury, as if making an important decision, before slowly rising and following after the cadet. Steve notices the dark black material that clings to the demon's legs-functioning as trousers- and the brown pieces of fabric that sway at the thigh from where they hang off a silver chord, which acts as a belt. The bodies of scientists and soldiers pay them no mind as the pair walk out of the rustling building. Outside, the dusty paths and overbearing sun seem an illusion compared to the white light and cleanliness of the laboratory.

Every so often, the cadet would glance just behind him, and each time he would be shocked to find the demon still there, at his heels like an obedient dog. Steve grimaces at the thought, avoiding the creature's eyes that would have looked cold or empty to anyone else, but the cadet sees something more: curiosity, bravery, temptation and perhaps an entire war. As if the demon has seen more blood, more death than any mortal could imagine, like he has lost something precious and knows it will never return. A lost gaze that if you look closely enough, you can almost see _hope._ As soon as the thought had nuzzled its way into Steve's mind, he shakes it loose, abandoning the idea. He's being ridiculous. At least that's what everyone else would say.

Steve show his ID to a young man at the door to the Knowledge Centre- the building is incredibly long and two stories high; yet only acts like one. Its interior just as mechanical as every other building. What was once a library full of books, is now covered in computers in neat rows, and every so often there is a room. The rooms however, are like no other: comfortable sofas and wooden cases stacked with worn books, with pictures hanging on the sides. An imitation of home, and yet how far from home the cadet feels. Steve carefully opens the door to the room labelled '179', observing the area with a frown when his eyes find no human. The cadet briefly looks back at the sign to the door, thinking through Fury's instructions.

Walking fully into the room, Steve folds his arms, very aware of the demon behind him; the heat of his body radiating the sweetest warmth upon the rookie.

_Is he supposed to say something? Ask questions? Give an order?_

It all sounds so wrong and Steve has no idea how to crawl his way out of the tunnel he has found himself in. Steve ponders over to the couch, but doesn't sit down, instead choosing to bite his nails awkwardly out of habit. As if he were to ignore the issue, then it would disappear.

"You don't need to be afraid of me."

The blond stares up at the husky voice, those words that send shivers through his body and heat in the very pit of his stomach. The demon steps closer, chest rising and falling with every breath. Steve doesn't realise he is watching until the creature is mere inches away: all Steve has to do is reach out and _touch_. Blushing, Steve angles his head away, nibbling his lower lip in contemplation. Running his tongue over his lips, Steve stares back at the demon, his answer sure.

"I'm not."

The corners of the fiend's mouth twitch at his response, smiling down at the cadet inquisitively. Steve notes the sharp jawline; the beginnings of stubble apparent, as though the demon forgot to shave that morning.

_Do demons shave?_

Well, there is a thought. Steve swears to himself, wary of the demon that hasn't moved and yet his wings are almost cradling him now. Brushing against his skin absent-mindedly, albeit Steve is sure it is done with purpose. The cadet gazes between their feet briefly, closing his eyes for a second as a strong breeze chills the air. The next thing Steve knows is that those (almost) angelic wings are gone, replaced by open air, and all of a sudden, the creature before him seems so much more human. He can _see_ that smooth skin, the rough scars, and the lean hip bones that are out of place against the vast expanse of muscle.

Fuck.

Steve always liked to think he was one to meet a challenge- even if by textbook laws.

The cadet virtually jumps out of his skin when the door bangs open, a round woman in a lab coat waltzes in with enough energy to power a hundred light bulbs. Steve's face reddens as if they had be caught breaking the rules at kindergarten.

"Hi there, Rogers, right?" The lady smiles kindly, extending her hand out to Steve who takes it graciously. "I'm Professor Franklin, I'll be analysing your demon. Testing compatibility and answering any questions you have. Would you like something to eat? You look a little worn out..." she asks, ginger hair flicking side to side as she sits down.

"No, no. I'm fine, thanks." Steve smiles anxiously, sitting down on the sofa across from the professor, who begins to type notes like there's no tomorrow. Steve regards the demon, averting his gaze at the fiend lowers to sit next to him- closer than Steve thinks appropriate.

"Alright, then. Just waiting for the blood results to come through then we can begin," she declares, tapping at the electronic tablet. "What do you think?"

"Hmm?" Steve blinks, unsure what she's asking.

"Your demon. Class, type?" Franklin questions, eyeing up the fiend with interest. "He's cute, huh?"

"Um, well. I uh-"

"I'm messin' with ya," she giggles, finding amusement in Steve's embarrassment. "Take a guess though."

The cadet examines his demon, taking in his form, years of study finally returning. Steve thinks back to the electrical current that had pounded through him. Of the metallic limb and jagged scars. His warmth.

"Warrior type," Steve concludes, "perhaps fire, though more likely electricity class. Hard to say..." the rookie considers, brows knitting together. The professor nods her head in silent agreement, though soon perks up when the device in her hands lets out a low buzz. She takes a picture of the demon without warning, the computer analysing the fiend's aura (which cannot be seen by the naked eye without connection to a demon) before sending the image to the laboratory for another scientist to look at .

"Well I think you're spot on with him being a warrior type, however, his essence seems to have lasting remains of being a trickster," she answers gradually, as if unsure of the truth herself.

"Can that happen? A demon can change its type?" Steve leans forward, trying his best to ignore the smirk upon the demon's lips and the knee pressing against his thigh.

"Yes. It's not unheard of. Demons have gone through rituals to change their types in the Netherworld. I assume this one was preparing for battle. Or more that he was subjected to war... Just how old _are_ you, fiend?" Franklin questions the demons, eyebrow raised and lips pursed, only to be dismissed by the creature. "Several decades? Perhaps a hundred years?" muttering something to herself, the professor turns her attention back to the tablet. She hadn't been expecting an answer.

"And the class? What about the level?" Steve prompts, coils of apprehension twitching within.

"I...I think there's a mistake with the results. Excuse me one moment."

"What? Where are you going?" Steve gasps, standing as Professor Franklin hurries away. The cadet stares disbelieving at the closing door, wondering what exactly is going on- computers never lie, and the techniques used to test demons is reliable and cannot be falsified. This is not going according to plan, and Steve has the sudden fear that he will be kicked off the programme because of a problem-demon.

Moments later, Franklin returns: flushed with unease. The demon grunts softly when she comes in, leaning into the back of the couch, head down. Steve follows her back to the sofas, sitting down with his hands clasped between open legs, back arched with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Look, kid. You seem a sweet boy, and if you can't handle this-"

"I can. Just tell me." Steve retorts as calmly as he possibly can.

"-then we can get you another demon at the end of the year."

_Wait..._

"At the end of the year? Why not tomorrow if something is wrong?" the cadet questions, watching the woman until he discovers some sort of clue.

"Your compatibility is...remarkable," Franklin confesses, placing the tablet on her lap.

"Remarkable how?"

"Rogers, its- from what we can gather- at least eighty-five percent. The technology we're using right now to analyse your bond isn't the most accurate as what we'll use later when the bond is settled. But its never off by more than a few percent." There is a brief pause until she continues, "if we severed the bond you would be ill for a long while. Its still unstable, and for all we know the compatibility could rise."

"Then... why would you severe the bond?" Steve defends. Nothing makes sense. Compatibility of eighty-five percent is unheard of and would make life that much easier. They would be level forty by the end of the following year. The weapons they could manifest would do more damage than normal. They would be a great asset to the military.

"We're not sure if you'll be able to control the demon."

"Why not?" Steve scoffs, twisting his face at the insult.

"His level is above average for first years. It's, well, above average for second...and third too. He's level fifty-five. And from what we can gather, it's difficult to control such a high level demon when the bond is so new. I've never even seen a case where a first year has had such a high-level demon.”

The cadet's breath catches in his throat. What is he supposed to say to that- _'_ _don't worry, I'm stronger than my weak body looks! I've trained so hard for this so don't give up on me when I know my full potential- and this is not it!'_ _._ Steve rubs his thumb over his bottom lip, tilting his head to catch the demon watching him. A level fifty-five demon is far more than the young cadet bargained for, but for some reason, when he looks into those demon eyes, he knows he can handle it.

Steve straightens his posture, staring back at the professor who observes their interaction, before replying with conviction.

"I've got this. All I need is for you to give me the chance to show you."

Franklin watches him closely, scrutinising every breath and twitch, and after a final, unforgiving moment she caves:

"Alright. But, we'll be watching you closely, as with the others."

"I understand." Steve nods, a small smile appearing out of relief. "What's his class?"

"His class...is... His class is Dark."

Steve instantly feels his smile fall.

        

"We recommend staying within a certain proximity to each other for the first week, it'll make weapon manifestation a lot simpler," Professor Franklin states, shuffling through the bookcase before finally handing the young cadet a newly printed hardback, "take this, its had some really positive feedback from the others.”

The book reads _'_ ** _New Bond_** _\- how to deal with your fiend when the bond is raw'._ Steve thanks her out of politeness, even though he can practically feel his demon sneering at the title behind him.

"Good luck, Rogers," she smiles, giving a courteous nod and one last look at the demon, the pair disappearing down the corridor. Every few steps Steve glances at his demon, and each time the creature is staring right back at him. Book in hand, the cadet chews on his lip, stomach growling as the initial adrenaline starts to fade. Steve's joints ache and his head throbs, and yet each stride is light and dizzying. He just needs some fresh air, that is all- and perhaps food is a good idea too. The Knowledge Centre is deserted; quiet apart from the gentle buzzing of computers, that seem far too loud to the cadet. For a moment there are grey spots blinding Steve's vision, only for his legs to give way as he hits the cold ground beneath him.

Except, he would have hit the floor, if it wasn't for the tight grip on his elbow and the arm wrapped around his side. The demon catches Steve in an instant, automatically like an innate power within him decided to protect the blond. The creature presses himself against Steve, letting the young man lean into him for support as lashes flicker. Steve feels the demon's warm skin trickle through the think fabric of his clothes, the heat radiating a stream of energy that makes Steve's body hurt less and less the more it caresses him. When the cadet finally gives in to the urge to meet the demon's eyes, his brows are furrowed and his mouth a tight line that Steve can't read.

"Thanks," he mutters nonchalantly, twisting out of the demon's grasp, even as his body protests the loss. "I mean- uh-" Steve stumbles over his words, knowing all to well you don't _t_ _hank_ a demon. The notion itself preposterous. If someone had seen, or _heard_ him then... Steve dreads the rumours that would have made their way up to high ranks. People would assume things and the cadet would be in for a long road of psychiatric appointments and teasing. Steve has had his fill of that.

"You're welcome" is the sly answer. The smile that Steve is coming to memorise all too quickly, plastered on the demon's soft lips. Steve clutches the book to his chest, completely ignoring the demon's words, even the ones the cadet had struggled to hear that had sounded awfully too similar to _'_ _my little warrior'_.

Hunger wrecks the young blond -foolishly skipping lunch was a mistake- he is sure the demon can hear his stomach growl. Even among the mist of his embarrassment. The pair make their way towards the canteen, a light breeze prodding them as the sun burns overhead. Steve sends a message to Sam letting him know that he is heading to get some food. Not a moment later, Sam replies, informing the cadet that he is with the others.

There are several groups of soldiers dotted around, chatting without a care in the world. Steve lines up to pick out his meal. Nothing too fancy, just pasta with tomato sauce and a bottle of water. And if Steve detected the demon looking at the fresh plums; thus added some to his tray, neither said anything on the matter.

"Steve!"

The cadet can recognise that voice anywhere. Sam is waving him over from the far corner, grinning wickedly. Steve makes his way towards the cadets, some of them turning to greet him. Sliding in across from his old friend, the blond quickly tucks into his meal, much to the wide eyes of his future team mates. The demon stands tall behind Steve, his finger's ghosting the length of the rookie's back. Standing so close their auras continued to entwine, unseen shadows seizing coils of amber.

"Come on, man. You're leaving us in suspense here!"Sam exclaims, leaning closer to the cadet.

Steve glances up from his (almost) empty bowl, wiping at the dark red stains on his lips. The others listen closely, taking in the sight of the rather impressive demon that is undoubtedly twice the size of Steve, perhaps more. The other demons present -including Sam's and Wanda's- also observe, but more out of fear than curiosity. Steve coughs one to clear his throat, sitting up.

"Level fifty five warrior, eighty-five percent compatibility, dark," Steve answers simply, immediately returning to hurling the last bit of pasta into his mouth.

"Well, fuck. Who wins the bet then?" Clint proclaims, glancing between the silent cadets. "Because, damn. No one can beat that."

"We all lost..." Bruce mumbles in disbelief. Tony looks on ,gob-smacked, jaw agape. Steve isn't the only one wondering just how someone like _him_ got a demon like _that._

They stay in the canteen for a little longer, a few more of the rookies leaving to get their demons eventually. Rhodey returns with an earth-warrior: an impressive demon with dark skin and even darker tattoo-like markings that reminded Steve of a large cat. The demon has an expression of anger cast upon him, giving off a terrible feeling of being caged. The cadet supposes that is true, as much as he hates to admit so.

Everyone but Steve is surprised when Tony turns up with a water-seducer: strawberry blonde hair that swirls around her shoulders, pixie-like features accompanying eyes that remind Steve of rocks under a thick ocean wave, lips thin and red. She compliments Tony in ways soldiers shouldn't understand. However, the group was in for a shock when Clint reappears, a fiery redhead by his side. Steve wonders if his own demon thought her beautiful- because there is no denying that everyone else does. Her hair is straightened, parted in the middle like running larva. Pale lips full with eyes green one moment, and grey the next.

But, his demon's eyes never once stray from Steve's small physique.

The cadet can't help but smirk to himself at this. After several hours had gone by -and Clint had convinced the kitchen staff to give them dinner early- they agree to go back to the dorms to await Bruce's arrival, who was yet to return with his demon. There is a lounge located between the men's and demon's quarters, plush with somewhat comfortable sofas and a surprisingly up-to-date TV. Tony attempts to persuade Wanda to join them, but she kindly refuses, either going back to her room or to the other lounge, for this Steve is unsure of.

The cadet likes Wanda: she's smart, but keeps to herself, always observing. She is going to be a great ally in battle, someone Steve knows he can count on. Apart from Sam, of course, Steve is unsure about the other rookies. Everyone is testing the waters, seeing how far they can wade before struggling to breathe. It's all fun and games now, but in a few years the light in their eyes will drain away. Clear oceans will turn red and decay will take its grasp.

"I think I'm going to head off to bed now," Steve whispers, watching as the others settle down, demons twitching near the walls.

"You sure?" Sam asks, eyebrow quirked. Sam's demon cocks its head at the blond, more intelligent than it's letting on, spying any weaknesses. Steve's demon growls low in his chest, unheard by the mortals.

"Yeah," he sighs, one hand coming up to rub at his eyes. "I'll see you in the morning?"

"Don't be late" Sam teases, elbowing the smaller man. Steve huffs, albeit still smiles all the same. The cadet calls goodbye to the others, leaving the dim room in favour of brightly-lit hallways.

The building seems far too quite. All that can be heard are the light footsteps made by the cadet's own shifting feet. The blond can pick out specks of green and brown along the ceiling from the earth class, unsettling him. The hair on the back of Steve's neck stands on end, as he struggles momentarily to open his door. Trudging into the relative safety of his room, Steve ponders just what to do with his demon.

_How are they going to train effectively? What weapons will he be able to manifest? How can he stay in control?_

The cadet eyes the book tightly grasped in his hands but immediately turns when the bedroom door closes behind him with a forceful _click_ _._

The demon is still following him.

That is certainly something Steve needs to get used to.

"You have your own room," Steve vexes, frowning at the fiend and making his way back to the door. The blond needs to put him into the dorm-containment facility, but the cadet isn't so sure that the demon would follow him there.

The demon _tsk_ _'s_ back at him, strolling right past the cadet to lay on his bed, relaxed without a care in the world. The creature's arms arch behind his head, one knee lazily bent against the wall, eyelids concealing those pupils Steve could lose himself in. The rookie has no desire for the demon to be near him like this, it's far too... _domestic._ It agitates something in the pit of his stomach; he can only hope that he isn't confusing the feeling for something else entirely. Steve flicks open to the index page, searching for an answer that would rid him of this awkward, and inappropriate situation. The demon scoffs, clearly amused and completely, and utterly _in control_.

"If you want to know something, you only need to ask."

"There is always a price," Steve retorts, folding his arms in defiance.

"Not for you, doll," the demon gravels, eyes watching the cadet through thick lashes. Steve blushes, not daring to meet his gaze. "Or maybe you would prefer it if my price was to have your body underneath my hands in sweet ecstasy."

"No!" he replies far too quickly. The demon smirks wickedly at this, Steve's reddened cheeks extending across his face in horrific embarrassment...perhaps part of it is due to being turned on. Steve sighs, clearing his throat, as he finally asks the one thing he has wanted to know since he first saw the demon. "You got a name?"

"Bucky."

"Bucky?" Steve questions, quirking an eyebrow, leaving the plums from earlier on the desk.

"Yeah. Did you expect something scary like 'Dark One' or 'Throat Ripper'?" the demon growls, though in reality it has no bite to it. Steve ignores the question, turning to open the neatly laid laptop upon his desk. Their schedule pops up immediately, illuminating the rookie's features. Steve can feel the demon still watching him, a quick glance to his right confirms as such. For a moment, Steve has a sense of what being prey feels like.

"You should really go to your own room."

"You should really listen to your professor."

"I don't think she meant _in the same bed_ close," Steve huffs, shutting the laptop with more force than necessary. The demon smiles at him as the blond steps closer, knees almost hitting the edge of the bed. The fiend shuffles until his back hits the wall, tapping the empty space next to him twice.

"Come on, doll." He grins, a twinkle in his eye Steve will forever deny seeing. "I won't do nothin' ya don't beg me to."

The cadet turns on his heel, rummaging across the room for his night clothes, jaw clenched through the whole process.

"Stay there," Steve commands, although his voice is more hopeful than demanding.

"Ain't got nowhere else to be."

The blond carefully watched the demon, grey sweats and white t-shirt in hand.

"Don't touch anything," the blond orders, slowly making his way to the small en suite that consists of nothing but a toilet and sink. “Just eat the plums.”

"Yes, sir." The demon smirks, slithering back against the bed.

Steve rushes to switch his clothes, doubting his authority over the creature. Although Steve should stop thinking of him as such -as a demon- for he knew its... _his_ name, but his gut keeps the knowledge that he isn't human at the forefront of his mind. Like a burning flame on the back of one's neck- knowing it's there, even though you it cannot be seen. Not when everything else seems so ordinary.

Steve pokes his head round, observing the demon who hasn't moved so much as an inch, except the fruit had entirely disappeared. Discarding his uniform over the desk, the cadet wanders closer.

"You should still go to your own room."

One of the demon's eyes snap open, and before Steve has any chance to react, the fiend's metallic arm wraps around his thighs, hauling him onto the bed. Letting out an undignified squeal, Steve lands against the demon's warm chest, pressing along his side like a rag doll.

For a second, Steve could have sworn he had felt a heart beating under the palm of his hand. He can feel that same current, that same heat...It quickens Steve's breathing, makes his stomach clench and his head confused with emotions like waves pulsing through a floodgate. A gentle blush surfaces across Steve's face, as if his blood isn't sure what to do with all this adrenaline. His body is in fight or flight. Yet. For some strange reason. Steve doesn't want to do either.

"You don't need to be afraid of me," the demon whispers, nose nudging the pulse along Steve's neck. His lips ever so slightly ghosting the pale skin there. His metallic hand coming to rest on the cadet's hip while the other encased the blond from underneath, warm hand feeling the curve of his spine through thin cotton.

"I'm not," Steve breathes, his answer accompanied by a shiver that runs through his entire body.

The blond attempts to say that they'd had this discussion before, but then Steve is gasping as the demon's lips plant firmly on his vein and the words die on the tip of his tongue.

Frozen in place, eyes wide, mouth gaping as he feels that familiar heat in the pit of his stomach that wonders even lower. The demon kisses the same spot again, tasting him, testing him. Pushing boundaries and walking unknown lands: seeing how far he could venture. Steve's body is buzzing, pulsating, brimming with want. And if only-

" _Stop,_ " Steve pants, hands slowly pushing against the demon, and then, more firmly, "Bucky."

"Okay, _my little warrior,_ " the demon purrs, de-tangling himself from the cadet.

Steve turns on his side, his back inches from the demon, and not quite far enough. He can feel the demon's eyes watching him, even as he settles onto the pillow and closes his own. Steve refuses to look, knowing he would find the fiend on his back, head angled, observing his unsteady breathing. Even as it settles, the demon continues watching the blond's chest rise and contract, mesmerised. Steve isn't sure what to do. His plan has taken a diverted path, and now he's lost, with no light to guide him back. But as the adrenaline disperses once more, his body decides for him, drifting off into dreams uncharted.

        

Steve awakens to the caress of darkness. Blinking in an attempt to adjust to the light, the day's events seeming to finally catch up. It;s late -if the time on his watch is anything to go by- and unless he's mistaken, there should be a demon right next to him. Through the haze of night the cadet can depict Bucky sat up, cross-legged with his shoulder blades firmly against the wall, watching the ceiling like a wolf observing a coyote on the edge of its territory.

"What is it?" Steve asks, voice rough with sleep, rubbing at his eyes with one hand while he leans on the other.

"Turn on the light," the demon replies softly.

Steve does so, switching on the white lamp above the bed. When the rookie looks up, his breath catches in his throat. The green mould that appear to cover the dorms is growing: literally. A brown moss-like substance swells, covering more and more of the ceiling like a leaking sink.

"Is the demon doing that?" Steve queries. It feels so strange to see the mould spreading, knowing that right above them a demon is lurking- doing things that would cause more than an embarrassed blush upon the cadet's cheeks.

Bucky nods in reply.

"The um-" Steve gestures toward the ceiling, "s'not toxic, right?"

"No," the demon answers gently, eyes casting down to look at the cadet. "I wouldn't let it hurt you anyway."

Steve meets the demon's gaze for a sign of dishonesty- of trickery, but all he finds in Bucky's eyes is sincerity. Steve lays back down with a quiet _thud_ as his head hits the pillow, watching the mould in all its intricacy, hoping that the demon would avert his stare- a foolish thought.

He must have dozed off at one point or another, because the next thing he knows is that the light had been turned off and the demon is nestling in beside him. Steve can feel the mattress shift underneath his back as the demon settles onto his stomach: head resting on its arms facing the cadet who can feel the cold metal against his own arm.

 

_Why do you say those things? The words that make it out to be that you're my protector, not some otherworldly fiend!_

_Why does it feel like I've known you forever. Why do I feel so safe when we touch?_

_Why do I see so much when I look into your eyes? It's like looking through a telescope at the stars- discovering new pieces of you each time._

_Just..._

_Don't mess this up for me._

_Listen to me._

_I can do this._ _~~But you need to help me.~~ _

 

These are all the things Steve can't quite bring himself to say. Even when he feels like he could burst at any moment. The current radiates between them, vibrating with uncertainty, as if it's running back and forth to each body. With every breath, Steve's arm brushes against Bucky's, and each time it's like the mist clears, making everything brighter, more bold- Steve can feel it all and yet, nothing overwhelms him.

"Here,” Steve mumbles, turning onto his side, "you can have some of the pillow..."

The cadet can feel the sensation of Bucky's smirk upon his back, he doesn't have to face him to know. Nonetheless, Bucky pushes himself up, resting on the other half of the pillow, slowly, and gently, bringing his chest flush against Steve's back, arms wrapping around his small frame to bring him even closer. So close strands of blond hair tickles Bucky's nose as the demon breathes him in.

Neither stir until dawn.


	3. Whisper In My Ear, For I Am Not Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Two:  
> ** Steve recovered from their bonding, and found out that his demon is a warrior type (with lasting remains of being a trickster), dark class, level 55, and that their compatibility is eighty-five percent.  
> **Bucky revealed his name and refused to go to the 'demon-dorms'  
> **Steve had reluctantly, not-so-reluctantly, allowed the demon to share the bed with him (not that he even had a choice haha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited :)

Steve groans as the repetitive _beep beep beep_ of his alarm alerts him to a new day: its best effort to rouse the heavy-eyed rookie. Fumbling blindly in the gentle glow of dawn, the torturous noise comes to a sudden halt, regardless of the fact that the cadet hadn't stumbled upon his watch yet. Steve jolts when he leans back against the demon who only entwines his arms around the blond more tightly, inhaling his scent as their auras merge at the edges.

"Morning, my little warrior," Bucky purrs, placing a light kiss on the shell of Steve's ear.

 _"Bucky,_ " the cadet warns, attempting to twist out of the demon's grasp.

There's that smirk again. Albeit it should unsettle Steve, he feels as if he has known the demon for years: he's comforted by his presence, as if Bucky's hold on Steve is keeping his feet on the ground. Stopping his mind becoming cluttered even when at the same time it's like the demon crowds his thoughts. But the way forward is clear, like a pathway up a perilous mountain. The fiend relents his hold when Steve mumbles about needing a shower, following the cadet after a hesitant moment. Once Steve had snatched his uniform from the side they both ponder down the corridor to the floor's shower-room.

Their journey is strangely quiet, and Steve wonders if everyone else is still asleep. The lights to the showers flicker on as the pair enter the white metallic room. There are ten stalls containing showers, and the cadet is thankful they have doors, even if his head and feet will still be on view to anyone who bothered to look.A line of five sinks settle on a long counter top underneath a just as long mirror.Steve places his uniform by one of the gritty sinks and grabs a towel off a slightly tilted grey shelf.It's not exactly luxury, far from it- but it feels like home.

"You are not showering with me, so get that look off your face," Steve huffs, closing the door to the stall behind him. The rookie can hear the demon chuckle, knowing that the demon is coming closer, if the pit-pat of feet is anything to go by. Quickly stripping out of his clothes, Steve goes to chuck them over the door when his face meets the demon's. Frowning (and blushing a shade of pink Bucky had never seen before) Steve turns away to switch on the shower.

The water is cool with just the right hint of warmth to stop him from freezing, but cold enough that the heated blood in his body wouldn't cause him anymore embarrassment. The demon watches Steve, arms resting on the top of the door with ease, his head upon them slightly cocked as he absorbs the curves and sharp corners of Steve's body. From the darkened hairs clinging to the nape of Steve's neck, to the dip in his lower back to the smooth curve of his ass and jutting hips, all the way to his reddened heels from wearing new shoes.

"We'll get you your uniform today," Steve comments, trying his best to appear clam even with his heart rate increasing and his blush extending like blossoming roses.

"Hm?"

"Well you can't exactly go around what you're in now.”

"What ya tryin to say, _punk_ _?"_ Bucky teases.

"Jerk," Steve retorts, a hidden smile across his features. This is easy, the banter. It allows some sort of equilibrium to come into place, allows Steve's breaths to come in steady rhythms rather than the anxious beating akin to his heart.

Steve ties the towel around his waist when the water stops, running a hand through his hair to check for any leftover conditioner from the dispensers. Making his way back to the sinks, the demon follows him- a wasted journey when Steve grasps his clothes and ducks back to the cubicle to dry properly and change (much to Bucky's dismay). The blond smirks slyly at the fiend as they head back to Steve's room, as if he had earned a point in a game where Bucky is in the clear lead: but he's catching up.

The hallway is still quiet- except for the sound of whispered arguing. The pair are surprised to see Sam and Clint struggling with a box each in the hallway, debating something or other. Steve greets the other cadets and raises a brow at the boxes.

"Wanda just dropped these off-"

"How remains a mystery" Clint interjects.

"-they're the uniforms for some of the demons," Sam informs him, putting his box on the ground and opening it, shifting around for a few moments before pulling out black-looking fabric encased in plastic. "Yours."

"Thanks," Steve replies, taking the package, "I'll see you for breakfast in a bit?"

"Yeah, just going to drop the rest of these off, then-" Sam pauses, looking to Steve's left where the demon stands tall and broad, arms folded in a display of animal-like defence. Staring down his opponent. That's when Steve notices the red bird atop Sam's shoulder- though that isn't the reason for Bucky becoming protective of a certain blond. "Uh, yeah, so- fifteen minutes!" Sam exclaims, already backing up the hallway with Clint. Steve gives a half-hearted salute in their direction as they disappear.

Bucky receives a sideways look from the cadet as they continue on their path. Back in the confines of Steve's room, the rookie hands the demon his uniform, only for him to be met with a cocked brow and an unamused look.

"Put the uniform on," Steve instructs, though before the demon can decline, the cadet's eyes dance with something the demon had yet to see: they lack (for once) fear. They are eyes of defiance and- "please" - most certainly kindness.

How can he possibly refuse him?

Steve sits at the desk while Bucky changes, ignoring the sound of fabric crumpling to the floor and the reflection of skin on the laptop screen.

The cadet twirls in the desktop chair a few moments later to face the demon. Old rags lay abandoned at his feet while dark clothes replaced them: tight black running trousers and a just at clinging top embroidered with the academy's name as well as with 'S.Rogers' upon Bucky's left pectoral muscle. The uniform makes the thin collar around the demon's neck more noticeable as the silver symbols reflect in the harsh lighting. The lettering shimmers more than the metallic limb that lay uncovered by the top while the other is layered to the wrist with the rough fabric.

"Like what you see?" Bucky flirts, though his words are portrayed by his rigid posture and squinting eyes that the alluring smile could not hide.

~~As if it's even a question.~~

        

The sun burns at Steve's skin where its rays push through darkened clouds. The air is dusty and warm, leaving a bitter taste in the cadet's mouth as the pair traipse around humming vehicles and groups of soldiers on the move. Bucky observes the men roaming free while their demons are coerced into several of the trucks.

They had clearly been sent on a mission; Steve wonders to where, and what exactly required such a large team. The rookie notices the unstructured nature of the three dozen or so soldiers. Only meaning that their mission is not set, but urgent.

Fury stands to the side shouting orders, his demon growling next to him when one of the demons isn't quite moving fast enough. Steve hears someone mention the Statue of Liberty, which can only mean a water demon is terrorising the area.

The cadet only wishes that he could help.

Steve can still hear the commotion outside when they reach the canteen, even with the tables practically full of half-asleep and coffee-induced cadets. In only a few months Steve would be like them: wide eyed and on complete automatic.

Grabbing toast and a bowl of fruit off the side Steve finds Bruce sat alone at one of the tables and joins him while Sam had still failed to appear.To say that he is alone though isn't strictly true: his demon -a wind warrior- monitors mankind before it. The demon is in human form, however, its skin is like nothing Steve has ever seen: in real life or textbooks. Red with silver plating outlining his face and neck, _almost_ out of place against the grey-blue colour of his compression shirt.

Steve watches the demon wearily for a moment, setting his tray down across from Bruce who glances up with a drowsy grin. Once good mornings had been exchanged, Steve is about to tuck in when Bucky places a glass of orange juice in front of the blond. Steve looks to his demon in shock and confusion, but is merely answered with an almost silent response of:

"You forgot to get a drink..."

If Steve's eyebrows could have raised any higher, they surely would have.

The cadet quickly peeks at Bruce -who is paying them no mind, and if he had seen the interaction, says nothing of it- before draining the sweet liquid. A self-satisfied smile creeps onto Bucky's face when Steve mutters a thank you, refusing to meet the demon's gaze.

It isn't long before the others arrive, arguing over who gets the last croissant (Clint won that when he licked it) and saying how they yearn to be in the field with those soldiers. Even if it's just to get a little glimpse of the action.Steve wants to go just as much as them, maybe even more so, but there is something Steve understands that not everyone else had grasped.

They are playing a dangerous game. Not only are their own lives at risk, but civilians as well. This is a fight that cannot be conquered by eager attitudes and childish master plans. It's not about your fighting style, your battle technique, the strength of your demon or the bond you share. It's so much more.

Up against creatures that have been studied for years and yet the surface has only just been touched.

Make the wrong move...choose the wrong choice... and one could have the Netherworld unfolding into the mortal realm.

Releasing chaos and death: a land without beauty.

A world without hope.

        

The white lights of the Knowledge Centre hiss to life, illuminating the two lifeforms that enter. The place remains as deserted as always; an environment that should feel isolated and full of unease, however makes Steve feel secure.

Many afternoons the blond used to sit researching and reading all things Demon in the library, while his classmates were off drinking and playing games. This time is no different. Instead of analysing files for his Pre-military Demon Course, Steve decides on searching through papers to find out more about his _own_ demon. This is the only exception to his usual routine.

Bucky is becoming an exception for everything.

“What are you doing?”

“Researching.” Steve replies dully, slender fingers tapping away at one of the computers.

“Why didn't you go with the others?” Bucky asks, referring to how Sam once more offered Steve to 'hang out' with the rest of the cadets. Steve had declined yet again, which only intrigues the demon further. This is merely their second day at the academy, and the blond is already ahead of the class.

“Because I have more important things to do.”

“Like researching?”

“Yes,” the blond snaps.

“Like researching me?”

Steve pauses his _'skills of demon dark classes'_ search.

“Yes...”

“You'd rather not ask?” Bucky whispers, edging in close behind the cadet.

“Would you tell me?” Steve questions, leaning back into the chair, feeling the demon's warmth vibrate closer as their bond still tugs and moulds.

“No.”

“That's what I thought,” Steve mutters, continuing his search.

“I will show you.” Bucky replies after a moment, hot breath against Steve's ear.

“When?”

“Not today.”

Steve huffs at that, thinking for a moment that he could have saved hours of scanning through articles. He can't possibly leave it at that, everyone else knows the skills that their demons possess...and yet all Steve has is a name. Albeit that is something only he knows, and has actually bothered to ask his demon. The cadet sends the first file to be printed.

Persistence can be an irritating trait. Bucky finds it endearing.

Steve shifts through article after article, copying any relevant files to take back to the dorms. Surprisingly, there isn't a huge amount written on the dark class of demons, most of it being theories rather than sound evidence; however, that doesn't stop the young cadet from finding absolutely everything he can.

By the time the pair leave the cold walls of the Knowledge Centre, midday had long since arrived and disappeared. The late afternoon sun provides a strange warmth upon the cadet's face, although it's not the greatest thing when you are already hot from carrying folders full of research.

Much to Steve's protests, Bucky actually holds a large portion of the work: the cadet's disapproval ignored by the demon. There's that smirk _again_.

It raises the hairs on the back of Steve's neck, as if that sly grin is pressing against his skin. Numbing it, yet at the same time makes it far more sensitive to touch. Steve can picture the demon's lips closer to him, caressing each reddening part of his form- parts where his body is heated and craving _something more._

_Fuck._

Perhaps literally would not be the best thing.

“Put the rest here.” Steve gestures, putting the work in his own hands beside the laptop, which is already collecting dust from the unconditioned room. A non-committal grunt erupts from the demon, but he does as Steve says regardless.

The cadet quickly searches his belongings for an old leather-bound book: his father's journal. The front is a deep red, with a five point silver star dyed onto the front. Inside, the brown tinted pages are dominated by scribbles and sketches that are only intelligible to Steve. He must have read each word a hundred times, memorised exactly what each page covered, but he still wants to read it once more: just in case he finds a clue that would have once been overlooked.

Bucky watches the cadet flip through every article and book alike from the bed. It isn't comfortable. In all honesty the mattress is hard and the pillows too thin and it squeaks ever so softly with every movement. However, Bucky loves the way he can stretch and observe Steve nibbling his lower lip with a turn of a page. How, when Bucky moves slightly, Steve would glance up but immediately look away. It's captivating and he just can't stop, knowing all too well he's distracting the cadet.

Steve lets out a frustrated sigh, slumping into the back of the chair. There's even less useful information than he first thought. The only remotely beneficial piece of documentation is a journal entry written by Peggy Carter, a soldier and researcher who helped set up the new laboratory for the academy. Steve holds the print-out in his hands, scanning over the text again and again.

 

_**The Dark Class** _

_One of the higher classes of demons that demonologists have struggled to study._

_A large proportion of these demons have been found to be Trickster types, though the reason for this is unknown._

_Dark classes are known for being able to control up to four components that make up matter, while the regular classes usually only manipulate one element. For example, a demon from the water class is able to control water molecules. On the other hand a dark demon can control fire and electricity- although this can vary._

_A case study of one dark class in 2091 found that the demon was able to control 'magic' as well as fire. This rather abstract ability seems to only be limited to the higher classes and involves the demon being able to manipulate 'shadows'. This is very different to how light classes are able to control 'light' that burns anything it touches. There is more to the magic some dark classes control, but not much is known except what was found in the 2091 case._

_The demon created terrible monsters from the shadows that completely tore down The Shard in London while killing approximately 1000 civilians and 17 soldiers. The demon was estimated around level 65, but the damage it produced suggested a much higher level and took 50 soldiers and their demons to destroy it._

_It is thought that some of these higher classes have special abilities or 'powers', though there is very little evidence except eyewitness reports to support this._

_Military personnel and amateurs have attempted to hunt down dark classes, but are yet to come up with an effective method for luring and capturing these demons whose powers vary. This has made it extremely difficult for the military to utilise these classes, and a trainee at any academy is yet to bond to a dark class as their first demon._

_Efforts in Japan were once made by a military student to forcefully -and without assistance- bond to a dark class which they found lurking in an abandoned subway. The student was not able to collar the demon, who reportedly, within minutes, killed the cadet after prolonged torture. This event was recorded through notes left by the student and cameras that were still operating. The cadet was left ripped open, with his limbs de-attached, and his heart black._

_Demonologists suggest the brutality of the case highlights the instability of individual demons. How this imbalance occurs is unknown and several studies are currently being carried out. There is also an ongoing study were demonologists are looking at the correlation of demon classes to their most used method of ending human life._

 

It is all a lot more violent than Steve expected. The naivety of the cadets becomes more clear, more pronounced. Like walking through a darkened alleyway, one only see the discarded items beside them, but then suddenly the street lamps illuminate the stray cat and the used needles on the floor ten feet away. Then as one looks around, they see mayhem, there's blood on the ground and an arm poking out of a trash can. If one were to dare to look further, the body would be found a mere few inches to the left. No one noticed it before, because who would have thought such a thing would happen on such an ordinary day?

That's an ignorant and immature attitude to have, and Steve understands that now.

Bad things happen. You can't pretend they don't, otherwise the path becomes shrouded.

It's time to grow up.

Steve slowly closes the laptop, folding Peggy's article into the front of his father's journal. The cadet's research has raised more questions than they had answered, and only time will provide him with more information. Steve checks the time on his watch before settling the old journal between the frame and the mattress of the bed. Bucky watches the cadet intensely, desperate to know his thoughts. The demon is tempted to move closer to the edge: to not only block Steve from then accessing the journal, but so that he himself could merely slide a hand and read it.

He doesn't move an inch.

The blond's eyes ache as he lies next to the demon- not touching, but close enough so that their auras collide at the ends. Steve listens to the gentle echo of trucks and the boiler warming the pipes.

“Have you ever killed someone?”

Bucky almost startles at the question. The near silence persists as the demon rolls onto his side to contemplate the rookie.

“That depends on whether you mean humans, or if you include my kind as being people.” Bucky's eyes fail to harden at the thought.

“Does it matter? The answer is the same, isn't it?” Steve asks, turning his head towards the demon.

“Yes.”

Steve doesn't press harder; Bucky's reply answers more than his previous question. Whether the demon is lying or telling the truth is another affair, although the cadet believes him without a second-thought.

Everything Steve knows about the demon suggests he has been to war, that much is plain. However, Bucky has not just fought against humans, but other demons as well. Perhaps the reason the demons at the academy watch him with unease is because they see the stains that are unintelligible to mortals. The thought bothers the cadet more than it should.

“What's it like, in the Netherworld?” Steve enquires, twisting to mimic the demon's pose, their eyes meeting the other's gaze.

“Is that what you humans call it?” Bucky chuckles to himself, metallic fingers inching towards the cadet, “Its not all fire and rotting corpses ya'know.”

“I wouldn't know.”

“No, you wouldn't, would you...”

“Tell me,” Steve whispers.

“I'm afraid I can't, _my little warrior,”_ Bucky replies softly, his fingers finally reaching the hem of Steve's shirt. When the rookie stays perfectly still, Bucky fiddles with the thin fabric between his thumb and forefinger: silver plates skimming the small area of exposed hip that the demon desires to touch so badly.

Bucky shifts closer, his warm breath mixing with Steve's as his hand slips under the material to rest on the cadet's smooth waist. Steve gasps at the sudden cool feeling of the metal upon his skin. The blond can feel his face heating already; unsure and completely lost, but also so very _aware._ The only thing that stops the cadet from falling into Bucky's arms is the knowledge that he is a demon. However, the fact that Bucky is now rubbing his palm along Steve's side, and that it feels so _good_ also hinders him from pushing him away.

Bucky's hand caresses the expanse of Steve's back, the sensors in his finger tips allowing him to feel each vertebrate down his spine, to recognise how his skin feels similar to that of silk. Steve opens his mouth to tell Bucky to stop when the demon's hand comes round to his stomach, sliding up to his chest. The words turn into an empty breath when he's pushed back against the bed, the demon's lips ghosting his own. It isn't a kiss, not even a peck, but it isn't nothing.

It certainly isn't nothing.

Steve's face becomes shadowed as Bucky hovers over the younger man, one leg planted in between the blond's parted thighs. He's so close that the dark strands of Bucky's hair tickle the cadet's cheeks, his lips just a fraction too far. Steve can't look away, merely gazing up into those icy blue eyes that are more vibrant than Steve remembers. Perhaps it's because they seem to glow in the darkening room- maybe they _are_ glowing

Bucky places a gentle kiss on the very edge of Steve's mouth, peppering them across his cheek and down along his jawline. As the demon reach the cadet's throat, his kisses become harder, inhaling the sweet scent that reminds Bucky of a snow encrusted forest. Steve isn't able to prevent himself from arching into the grounding touch. The blond's eyes finally close when Bucky begins to suck at the skin around his pulse point, licking, biting then kissing the same tender area again and again. The demon's metallic arm remains on Steve's chest, keeping them both steady as the pounding of Steve's heart vibrates up into the sensors.

Bucky can't help but smirk as a small moan escapes the other man's lips. Steve feels breathless, his body heated and his mind is hazy, the only thing that prevents him from drifting is the sensation of Bucky. Not just the filthy kisses on his neck or the solid hand against him, but the darkened aura that embraces his own and the bond that resonates and thickens.

“Ah!” Steve exclaims as Bucky give a harsh bite to the soft skin between his teeth. It makes Steve's stomach spark: as if electricity is descending, pooling at his inner thighs. When the demon's own thigh begins to purposely grind against Steve's groin, the blond can't help but let out an undignified gasp that echoes the demon's name: “ _B-bucky!”_

“ _Ssh, my little warrior...”_ Bucky hushes the cadet, running his other hand through the blond's glossy hair, pulling it gently from his eyes.

Little stutters of gasps and moans continue to escape Steve's mouth. He can feel the demon's smile on his throat where he _knows_ a mark will form- if the tingling in his skin is any indication. Steve's hips jolt against Bucky's leg, seeking friction as the younger man's hands grip onto the other's shoulders. His body hums, shivers and trembles... but not in fear.

Fear is far from what Steve would call the array of emotions that swarm him, that cloud his mind, keeping the idea that a _demon is_ making him feel this way obscured.

Steve opens his eyes when a orange glow tickles at his eyelids, as if a lamp had been turned on. But all Steve sees is the demon's hand outstretched beside them, palm up and fingers curled ever so slightly: for hovering barely a centimetre from Bucky's skin glistens a red orb of fire. The flame reflects in the blond's blue irises, flickering and burning in the palm of Bucky's hand.

Bucky nuzzles at the discoloured skin upon Steve's neck, whose jaw is slacked in amazement. Like looking up at the stars for the first time. A beautiful sight, and so very overwhelming.

The demon is showing a part of himself.

Giving Steve a little part of himself...

The price of which is nothing more but an impermanent mark.

While Steve perceives it as a trade, Bucky sees it as a sign of mutual trust forming.

As Bucky's hand makes a fist, the flame vanishes as if it was never there.

“I thought you weren't going to tell me today,” Steve sighs after a moment, his heart beat no longer battering against his rib-cage.

“I couldn't resist...” Bucky replies -(the word _'you'_ left unsaid)- kissing the reddened mark upon Steve's throat once before pulling back entirely. Steve's chest feels oddly empty where the demon's hand had rested. The cadet is sure that his cheeks are as red as the flame had been.

_Fuck._

What has he gotten himself into...

        

They have a routine...

If you could call it that.

Every morning Steve awakens to the demon's arms around him. Bucky never leaves his side. The demon waits just outside the door while Steve showers; follows him to breakfast and stands behind him silently. When Steve spends the rest of the morning researching, Bucky sits on the bed and _watches_ him.

Every time, Steve blushes.

By some miracle the cadet has managed to hide the red-blue discolouration on the side of his neck. Bucky often notices Steve finger at the mark, completely oblivious to his actions, and the demon can't help but smile at that.

When lunch rolls by, the cadets gather to explore the academy. One late afternoon they are even lucky enough to watch the third years in training. Though are not so fortunate when they witness two of the soldiers become seriously injured. While one is sent to the medical centre, the other is kicked off the course immediately- he had lost control of his demon. That was it. No discussion. No _“are you okay, soldier?”._ No _“lets start again.”_

The academy certainly isn't known for its second chances.

Dinner is always mayhem. Crowded with bustling bodies desperate for food with annoyed demons gritting their teeth, it isn't really the best combination.

On occasion Steve joins the rest of his future team in the dorm lounge: discussing the latest news and betting on how many grapes Clint could fit into his mouth- it's fifteen before he starts choking. But more often than not, Steve retires early to read in his room.

Well, reading is the excuse. In actuality, the cadet enjoys the demon's company. They exchange few words, for they don't have to say anything to know what the other is feeling. Their bond has cemented and finally settled by the time Sunday arrives. Steve couldn't have been more nervous. Fury has planned their weapon manifestation to begin the next day, and if they are unable to fabricate the weapons, then they would be removed from the programme.

Steve's pen taps against the desk to the same rhythm of his bouncing knee. Uneven piles of paper lay scattered across room in a somewhat organised fashion, fragments highlighted and annotated. But as much as Steve would love it to be true, being a soldier isn't someone you can be just by absorbing knowledge from books and articles.

However, Bucky knows that the best soldiers do not just fight with brute force, but deeply thought out tactics. In many cases, intelligence subdues strength.

A good soldier requires both.

Bucky is willing to be the strength Steve needs to succeed.


	4. Your Touch Haunts My Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Three:  
> **Steve explored the Knowledge Centre in an attempt to find out more about the dark class of demons, where he found an article written by Peggy Carter.  
> **Steve found out that Dark classes can manipulate up to four elements, including the manipulation of shadows.  
> **Bucky revealed that he can control fire, by showing Steve how he can create an orange orb of fire.  
> **Their bond became more stable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited :)

****“Ah! _B-bucky_!” Steve moans as the demon peppers forceful kisses at his inner thighs. Bucky soothes him with gentle caresses along his naked sides, whispering sweet words of encouragement.

“Shh, _my little warrior,_ ” Bucky hums, pressing his body against Steve's as he trails up to place a kiss upon the younger man's lips. Bucky wraps one of his arms around the blond, pulling him closer as Steve's back arches impulsively into the embrace.

Their lips meet again as Bucky's hands run along Steve's parted thighs. Little gasps and moans escape the blond's mouth as Bucky begins to slowly and softly grind against Steve's smaller form. The blond is flushed, cheeks pink and heart pulsing; pale fingers carving into the muscular expanse of Bucky's back.

The demon's other hand snakes between them, leaving heated touches across Steve's hips, his abdomen until he ever so slightly brushes against Steve's reddening member.

“ _Bucky...”_

“Its okay, its okay. _Shh_ , trust me... I'll make you feel _so_ good, babydoll.”

Steve can feel himself let go, even if his nails stay firmly planted in Bucky's shoulder blades. Bucky kisses the blond's lips over and over until, finally, Steve begins to move his mouth in sync with the other. Steve almost gasps into the kiss when Bucky's hand wraps around their cocks...

_Beep Beep Beep._

Steve startles awake, breath heavy with sweat running down his spine. Quickly grabbing his watch to turn off the alarm, Steve's eyes slowly adjust to the darkened room.

_A dream..._

Steve isn't sure if he's relieved that it was a dream, or scared that he had dreamt of such vivid things. What he can deny is that its contents were something his body craves...desires.

Steve takes a deep breath that only makes his body ache.

Shit. He's so hard.

“Steve,” Bucky utters, shifting up onto his elbows.

The cadet can't bring himself to face the demon. Knowing that those entrancing eyes are watching him, smelling his lust... and how completely out of control Steve is.

When Bucky reaches out to take Steve's wrist, the blond harshly jerks away.

“ _Steve._ ”

Steve snatches his uniform from the side and bolts out of the room towards the showers. He couldn't have been more thankful that it's too early for anyone else to be awake. Couldn't be more thankful for the privacy as he strips and fumbles to release the water. The liquid is bitter-cold but does nothing to cool the heated throbbing of his cock.

Before Steve realises it, his hand is around his shaft and pumping slowly. Fading images of Bucky flickers in and out of Steve's mind like the faint caress of a memory. And if the blond closes his eyes...he can see the demon in front of him, feel Bucky kissing and licking at his skin, biting at the delicate flesh on his neck, his hip...nuzzling at the length of his cock, calloused fingers drifting down his spine and further.

Steve can feel his body tighten, muscles contracting as complete and utter pleasure swells within, igniting up his spine as he comes with a bitten-back moan.

As the blond's release is washed away, the images he had seen can not be forgotten. Steve turns to see Bucky leaning by the sinks, eyebrow raised with the most devilish of smirks; dressed and ready for what the day may bring.

“Just pass the towel,” Steve orders, hands shaking as his body shivers ever so slightly.

Bucky observes the pink colour across Steve's cheeks that spread to cover his chest, but more importantly he sees the embarrassed frown that dominates the cadet's features. After a moment the demon brings Steve one of the frayed towels and before the blond has a chance to ask, he even emerges with his uniform in hand. “Thanks,” Steve mutters, avoiding the demon's gaze.

The younger man changes in what must have been a new record, before the pair quietly head out. Barely three steps out of the shower-room and Steve almost lets a completely undignified squeak loose as he bumps right into Tony.

“Up bright and early, Rogers?” The other cadet chuckles, eyeing the shorter soldier.

“Yeah, just about to head to breakfast,” Steve explains, smiling nervously. Tony looks up to find Bucky inches behind the blond.

_Why is it that Steve feels like he's been caught breaking the rules?_

Tony gives the pair a strange look, but stays quiet, murmuring a _'see you later'_ to Steve as he disappears into the showers. Moments later, the other cadets begin to emerge from their rooms, slumping down the hallway as they cross paths. When Steve greets them, he is only answered with grunts that could be interpreted as _'morning_ '...though that's a stretch at best.

The rising sun barely provides comfort from the early winds, and Steve is grateful for the warmth of the canteen. The cadets gather around one of the tables, their demons right beside them but ignored in every way.

Steve absently nibbles at his toast, oblivious to the rest of the world.

“Nervous?” Sam asks, leaning in towards Steve so he can hear him above the noise of clattering plates and conversation.

“A little...” Steve admits, abandoning the idea of eating. If Sam had asked the previous week if Steve was nervous, the blond would have laughed at the thought, but now, with that dream haunting his every waking moment... Steve is finding it hard to focus.

What's worse is that in reality, he doesn't want to concentrate on fabricating perilous weapons. He wants something he can't have. He wants to understand why he is failing to get this fiend out of his head. Wants to know the reason for this infatuation, or whether it will blossom into something more. The mere concept is terrifying.

And yet so thrilling.

        

“If you've made it this far, congratulations,” Fury's voice booms through-out the long hall, his voice echoing in the ears of triumphant cadets. The room is barely full with a couple dozen humans and their demons, leaving plenty of space left to spread out. “Now, I can see some of you are confused that there are more cadets that the ones you have already acquainted yourself with.

That's because I've separated you all into possible teams. The strangers you see today are irrelevant. But so is everyone else...”

As Fury paces across the room, all eyes remain on him, his demon's wings making scratching sounds against the floor.

“Today is about whether you are able to manifest your weapons, or not. If by the end of this week you still fail to manifest, obviously, you are out of the programme.”

Steve can hear the nervous muttering of the other cadets, the shifting of feet and the cracking of knuckles.

“Lets start with the basics.” Fury smirks, his demon growling in a way that sounds akin to laughter. The old soldier comes to stand in front of the eager cadets, looking over the room once before raising his hand slowly.

Strands of red smoke twist around Fury's hand, spreading in a double-helix like way into open air, thickening and spiralling until it reaches 1.5 feet in length. Then, as if produced from those very clouds, a machete glimmers as the vapour dissipates. The blade itself is the colour of human blood, while the hilt remains a dull metallic silver.

“You must allow the demon's energy through your body.” Fury begins, demonstrating with ease how the weapon has that same scarlet smoke following it with every quick movement in the air. “But you must learn to control it.” Fury let go of the machete, as soon as he does so, the weapon turns into red mist and vanishes altogether.

Gasps of wonder and awe saturate the air, but not as much as the distinct smell of heat and charcoal. Steve ponders if the smoke is specific to each class of demon. If water classes cause blue mist and the earth classes' smell like dampness and moss. If electricity classes are white and smell like the sky after a storm.

“Any questions?” Fury asks, brows furrowed at the cadets. Someone who Steve doesn't recognise raises their hand and, surprisingly, Fury actually indulges them by listening. “Yes, what is it?”

“How do we do it, exactly? Allow the demon's energy through us to create the weapons, I mean.”

“You concentrate,” Fury answers bluntly.

“Yes, but on what exactly-” The cadet persists, not realising what a mistake that is.

“Don't test my patience with stupid questions. You're all capable, if you don't know, figure it out for yourselves. If I hear one more idiotic question, that person is off the course.”

Steve can practically hear the nervous gulping. The blond glances over to Sam who is giving him the same look of _'well, shit'._

“Spread out, and get manifesting!” Fury orders, hands behind his back as the cadets and their demon's fumble about to get into position. Steve and Sam exchange whispers of good luck as they pass one another. Theoretically, luck has nothing to do with whether they succeed or not. No amount of wishful thinking can change their fate, but surely, it can influence it?

Steve's head shakes at the thought; wishing good luck is a matter of common courtesy. Yet still, he truly wishes his friend the best of luck.

Bucky steps to the side to stand behind the smaller man, overshadowing him in the harsh lighting of the room. Steve treads forward when he feels the demon's hand grazing his elbow. Bucky's touch is not something he needs right now. It's a distraction. A diversion from his plan.

Steve can't clear his mind. It's fuzzy, full of emotion and -not that Steve would admit- lustful images. He has to focus. That's what he needs.

Then why is his body reminding him of something else?

Or rather, _someone_ else.

The cadet gingerly raises his hands in front of him, fingers slowly curling and stretching. Gradually, Steve can feel Bucky's energy resonate through him, feel it tickle at his bones, caressing his skin, sparking in the palm of his hand.

It accentuates the dream: of the demon's hands on him, his lips against his own, body embracing Steve's smaller form. Encasing and protecting, doting...

_Shit._

Steve can feel the current retreat, dissolving away as if it was never there, leaving no trace behind.

_Shit._

_**Shit.** _

Steve is losing his grip, the energy slipping away as the images turn into unintelligible shadows. Caught up in the surprise and disappointment of not being able to manifest straight away, Steve doesn't even notice when Bucky places a gentle hand upon his shoulder.

“ _Try again,”_ the demon breathes into the blond's ear. “You need to ground yourself first. Ground yourself to me.” Bucky gives Steve's shoulder a soft squeeze. “Just focus...its okay. Ignore everything else. Concentrate on our bond. Concentrate on _me._ ”

Steve lets out an exhale of breath he didn't know he had been holding, steadying his thumping heart he hadn't known was beating so fast. Bucky's aura tenderly merges to the edges of Steve's, moulding together like paint on a canvas. It's as if the younger man is connected to the earth, but actually, it's the demon he that he is tied to. _His_ demon. Bucky.

Steve is in control now. When the cadet senses their bond pulsating, he pulls on it, seeking out the demon's essence, calling upon its strength. The bond gives way like water from a built up dam, allowing the essence to flow, the demon's energy leasing itself to the human.

That same spark, caress, the feeling of that energy...consumes his body anew. Steve raises his hands once more, and after a moment that seems like forever, black smoke materialises around his wrists; twisting between the cadet's fingers like a cloud of inky tendrils. The raven mist begins to swell, climbing up Steve's left forearm. The smoke keeps expanding, giving the appearance of a thin sphere that grows to over two feet in length.

All at once the black vapour scatters, leaving in its place a black metallic shield. Its face reflects and absorbs the light that shines upon its bare surface. It's far lighter than Steve had expected, but as he brings the shield closer towards him, the weight of its potential damage echoes through the sharp noise it makes through the air.

Steve glances behind his shoulder to see Bucky smiling: the kind of smile someone wears on their face when they are _proud._ The cadet can feel a fraction of those emotions, both from himself and the demon. However, most of all his mind knows of passion and warmth, remorse and desire. Not all of these are his own.

Steve lets the demon's energy disperse from his body, the black smoke enveloping the shield and disappearing completely with the weapon. As Steve exhales a disbelieving breath, he halts all movement when he catches sight of every pair of eyes solely on him.

Fury strides towards the blond with purpose, striking fear into the cadet. He's being singled out. Steve quickly stands at attention- shoulders back and spine stiff, feet apart, hands clutched behind him.

“Sir.” Steve greets the old soldier.

“Rogers, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You got the dark class?” Fury enquires, looking the blond up and down.

“Yes, sir.”

“Whats your compatibility?” The old soldiers asks, taking out an electronic tablet from his coat.

“Eighty five percent, sir,” Steve answers, biting back the nerves.

“I don't believe that to be correct.”

“Excuse me? Uh, I mean, sir. I don't...” The cadet fumbles, panic rising.

“The readings here say ninety percent.”

_What is Steve supposed to say to that?_

Their compatibility has increased.

“I'm eager to see how else you will surprise me, cadet.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Fury nod curtly, then addresses the room of shocked trainee soldiers. The other cadets quickly get back to focusing on their own manifestations, but not before Steve hears the strangers muttering under their breath about him.

The rest of the day is spent still manifesting, well, everyone else is trying while Steve manages to assemble the shield two more times. After every manifestation the blond takes a break: the energy that courses through his cells excites them, makes them ache with the loss, giving the illusion of exhaustion. Steve struggles with keeping the weapon established for longer each period.

Focusing solely on the bond... on the demon's essence, is a lot harder than one would imagine. Especially when certain images keep creeping in uninvited. But, something seems off with their manifestation- as if it's was missing a component. Steve isn't sure what that is, albeit isn't too bothered to find out this very moment. There are more pressing matters.

Like his infatuation with Bucky.

No. That isn't important either. Though it isn't something Steve can ignore. Not when the demon wears that smirk, or gives a light caress to his skin.

Is Steve _actually_ in control, or does the demon have more influence over him than he first thought?

Maybe that doesn't matter.

        

“I can't believe you were able to manifest so quickly!” Sam confesses, his voice laced with excitement.

“Yeah, that was pretty awesome,” Clint agrees.

“Couldn't quite believe it myself,” Steve admits, twirling the rice around his plate.

“So...how exactly did you do it?” Tony queries, pretending he isn't absolutely eager to know.

As Steve explains to his enthusiastic (future) team mates on how he found and summoned the demonic energy, he leaves out the details entailing Bucky's whispers in his ears and the dream that remains a constant distraction.

“Well. I'm spent,” yawns a very tired looking Clint.

“You didn't even do anything,” Tony mocks, laughing at the dramatic cadet. The canteen is slowly dwindling in numbers as the other trainees and their demons leave.

“Hey! There's a lot more going on under this cool demeanour.”

Steve snorts at that.

The day has already turned into night, and there will only be more early starts to come.

After a little while they all agree to head back to their respective rooms to rest. As much as Steve hates to admit it, he is rather worn out, his body becoming drowsy.

The blond and Sam hang back behind the group as they stroll through the cool night's air. The cadet would have been cold, but the residue from the demon's energy keeps him somewhat warm. Or perhaps it's the fact that Bucky is right beside him as Sam is, that his skin feels heated.

“You seem to get on pretty well with you demon,” Sam states. The declaration startles the cadet who glances up at his friend.

_Does Sam know about his dream?_

_No. There's no chance he could know._

“I mean that...he doesn't seem to be causing you too much bother,” Sam explains when he is met with a very confused expression from the blond. “Just yesterday mine stole my textbook and flew around the dorms with it!”

Steve can't help but burst out laughing: he could imagine Sam chasing the demon down the corridors, smacking into doors in an effort to get back the manual. Sam joins in on the laughter, his own demon sitting on his shoulder producing the strangest of whistling sounds. Like a pet parrot annoyed at its owner for doing something foolish.

“I guess... It's just compromising, somewhat...” Steve shrugs. He can't lie to Sam.

“Compromise? With a demon?” Sam quirks an eyebrow at Steve's words.

“Yeah. I... I just don't treat him like dirt, you know?”

“They're demons. _You know_ that. They aren't like us.”

Steve doesn't have an answer. Not one Sam would approve of.

“I think my demon is cool, for sure. I don't call it names like _mutt_ either.” Sam continues, afraid he had hit a nerve with his friend. “But there's a certain level you get to, and if you go over that, then you're treating it as if it has feelings. As if its a person worthy of our affection, like a dog.”

The blond hears Bucky scoff: growling under his breath at Sam's words. The demon begins to wonder what Steve saw in that man. Not that he particularly likes humans anyway.

“I know what you are saying. You don't need to worry about me,” the blond sighs, rejecting the urge to disagree with Sam.

“I will always worry about you, Steve.”

“Yeah,” the blond breathes, for he knows Sam's concern for him runs bone deep.

“I guess it's just because your demon is a dark class, and level fifty five at that!” Sam shakes his head in disbelief. “We have no idea what its capable of- what _you_ are capable of.”

Steve hasn't a clue either.

“Either way, I'm here for you.” Sam lightly elbows the smaller man, grinning one of his smiles specially reserved for the blond.

“Thanks, Sam. As I am for you.” Steve smiles, nudging his friend back.

Bucky observes their interaction with anxious curiosity. Human behaviour s vastly different to that of demons. While many mortals seek to cherish and sympathise with their peers, in the _Netherworld_ , rarely d0 demons gather in harmonious groups. And never, do demons seek to help another. Not since the Demon War.

But that's a mere matter of their species surviving. It's every demon for themselves. Their life above the entirety of the universe's occupants.

So why is this small, stubborn, naïve warrior different? Why is Bucky drawn to him like a moth to a flame? An indescribable attraction that the foundation is built on a certain _hunger._ There is something else. A fleeting sense of a hidden emotion. Perhaps its never been experienced by a demon before. Maybe that's why Bucky can't isolate himself from it- he's not quite sure what it is that he's meant to be turning away from.

“I'll see you in the morning, then.” Sam bids Steve a farewell, heading off towards the showers. The blond waves goodbye to his friend, whose words still played on his mind. They are a somewhat welcomed relief from the dream that still conceals itself in the corners of Steve's subconscious mind.

As soon as the door shuts behind them, Steve finally relaxes. The adrenaline from the day dissolved and -for a single moment- Steve doesn't have to be so guarded. The blond is glad to be able to get out of his uniform and into (marginally) more comfortable clothes. Bucky follows Steve's lead and rids himself of the rough black fabric that he had been forced to wear. Even if it's branded by Steve's name.

Steve is brushing his teeth at the sink as Bucky appears at the bathroom door, clad merely in a pair of dark boxer briefs. When the blond spits out the minty toothpaste, he catches sight of the demon in the mirror.

He is not afraid of his reflection in the glass.

“You should seriously sleep in something more appropriate,” Steve half-heartedly complains.

“You should sleep in something less appropriate,” Bucky counters, gesturing towards the grey sweatpants and the white t-shirt the cadet wears. Steve rolls his eyes, albeit there is a small smile that sneaks its way onto the younger man's lips.

“Well, if you slept in the demon dorms then it wouldn't matter.”

“That wouldn't be in either of our interests.” The demon smirks, leaning against the door frame. His eyes never leaving Steve's form.

“What makes you so sure of that?” The blond teases, amused laughter highlighting his words.

“I have an inklin',” Bucky states matter of factly.

“Oh yeah?” Steve queries, sidling up to Bucky, stopping inches in front of the demon.

“Mmhm.”

The banter that dances between the two could have easily been mistaken for carefree flirting. But their suggestive mocking easily hides the charm and seductive allure of the other. As if they are skipping over the actual reason for their actions. Pretending that their gentle touches have another source that drive them.

Bucky gazes down at the cadet, shifting from the doorway to stand closer to him. Steve can feel the demon's warm breath on his face, and the tender electricity that radiates from Bucky's skin. Calling out to him on a deeper, primal level.

Steve averts his gaze instantly. The blond's cheeks pinkens with a blush as he slips passed the demon. The bed shifts under Steve's weight as he dips under the covers, ignoring Bucky's watchful stare from the other side of the room.

When the demon shows no inclination to move, Steve steals a quick glance at him, pulling up the duvet at one end in an inviting gesture.

“You gettin'in or what?” The cadet mumbles, refusing to allow their eyes to meet. He knows Bucky is wearing _that_ smirk on his face. The demon wavers for a moment before walking over- merely to taunt the blond rather than as a sign of hesitance.

Bucky slides under the covers with the smaller man, immediately wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, one hand angled up to rest upon his heart through the thin fabric. The cadet jerks at the touch, attempting to shift out of the demon's grasp. But as he realises the pointlessness of it all, not even the haunting remains of Steve's dream can prevent him from leaning into Bucky's touch.

“Goodnight, _my little warrior,_ ” Bucky whispers, breathing in the sweet smell that tickles at the demon's nose just as the strands of blond hair does. Steve makes a non-committal grunt, acknowledging the demon, but not indulging him in an actual answer. Only when Steve's heart slows, does Bucky murmur more tender words. “ _You did so good today, Steve."_

        

A new day brings new challenges- though of a very different nature. The previous night was absent of lustful dreams (which Steve is extremely thankful for) but instead was full of a distant nagging feeling.

Steve continues to practice manifesting the peculiar shield, getting accustomed to its weight and its flow through the air. But more importantly, getting used to relying on the demon's energy to generate the weapon.

The blond looks to his left when he hears Sam howl in success: purple mist fades as two strange metallic weapons take its place. The shurikens are like none Steve has seen before. Each has two points which curve like knives but are jagged at the edges as if they are feathers. Purple sparks of electricity vibrate off the strange weapons. There is no doubt that Sam's demon was used to manifest them. Its essence practically courses through the pair of weapons.

When the purple smoke takes back the weapons and it too disperses, Sam turns to his friend with the brightest smile Steve has seen in a long time.

“ _I did it!”_ Sam mouths in glee, thumbs up in the most childlike of ways.

“ _You did it!”_ Steve mouths back in reply, a genuine smile of happiness for his friend.

Everyone else fails to manifest that session. Though that is to be expected. Manifesting for the first time is dependant on the compatibility between demon and human. Low compatibility means it'll take far longer than for someone with a high percentage- often four to five or even six sessions of attempts.

That's not to say that they are any less of a soldier. The actual weapons manifested by those with high or low compatibility is merely dependant on the level and type of demon, while the process is dependant on the class. It's the _difficulty_ of manifesting that comes from the compatibility.

As each demon raises in level, the weapons manifested become deadlier, more dangerous. Further, they become significantly more useful to the army. But that's what they are here for.

None of the other cadets begin to manifest until that Thursday, continuing on into Friday. Those who show no sign of being able to generate weapons by Saturday, are kicked off the course. Steve is grateful that it is no one he knows, but the realisation that if they slip up, their dreams of becoming a soldier could be ripped away... it frightens the cadet.

Though to be honest, it frightens them all.

By Sunday, Steve can manifest the shield in under twenty seconds and can hold it for just over four hours. Of course, he still has a lot to learn on how to use his weapon in battle.

“Congratulations cadets. Those of you who stand before me can manifest successfully. This was the easy part, so don't think you can start slacking,” Fury remarks. “I will now announce your teams. As you know, these will be the people you fight along side with on the battle field.

“Don't get along? Tough. Make it work. Your life _will_ depend on it.

“And don't complain if you get tired. I'll be training you to be the best soldiers you can be. And the best, is the only thing we accept here.

“Alright then. Your teams are as followed... Banner, Barton, Maximoff, Rhodes, Rogers, Stark and Wilson. You are the _'Avengers'_ team. Next-”

“The _Avengers,_ eh?” Tony whispers, glancing around at the others.

“Sounds kind of silly,” Rhodey chuckles.

“I think it sounds cool,” Clint hums to himself. “We could all be like _'Avengers, Assemble!'”_

“Barton. Do be quiet,” Fury reprimands, continuing with organising the other two teams.

Clint automatically straightens: “Yes, sir.”

“I hope you have all had the chance to look at your schedules. Its going to be a busy year for you, cadets. You should all be aware that there won't be a break until your second year,” the old soldier states, earning a few whines and groans from the young soldiers.

That should have been obvious. Demons are not allowed off site without their human counterparts. Nor can they stray apart.

Right now their bonds are weak compared to second years, and even more so to fifths. If they left _with_ their demons, there's a high chance that the fiends could overtake the cadets, in the most severe cases, even kill them. Without the security the academy provides, there's no telling what their demon's would do. Everything they have worked for could be lost.

For the chance that everything could be okay versus losing all hope of a future... Steve can handle not having a break for a year.

        

That evening, Steve finds himself back at the Knowledge Centre with Bucky by his side. The demon isn't the only one intrigued by the weapon the cadet can manifest.

Although technically, the building should have been closed for the night, Steve managed to pull a few strings to keep it open a few extra hours. Or rather, Tony used his father's status and a couple pieces of demon tech to bribe the guards.

Steve had never been good at making friends when he was younger. He doesn't think he is particularly good at it now. Nonetheless he discovers himself beginning to be surrounded by companions, rather than the playground bullies.

The only one who used to clean his wounds and wish him sweet dreams was his mother. None of the other children on their street wanted to play with the sick Brooklyn boy. So when Steve joined the pre-military demon course and met Sam for the first time, he had been more than shocked when his friend hadn't turned away from his sarcastic manner. Eighteen years and Steve had finally found someone he could call a friend.

Now Steve has a team. A group of people that there is no doubt he is friends with. It's exhilarating, and terrifying. But, they all have something in common: a goal they are all working towards. It means Steve doesn't have to worry about impressing them. Doesn't have to show them his worth for them to trust him.

They all trust each other with their lives.

Even if it is only the beginning of a very long fight.


	5. Darkness Can Become An Addiction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Four:  
> **Steve dreamt about Bucky ;)  
> **They had their first manifestation session, where Steve was able to create a black shield.  
> **The first years had their teams officialised by being given their team names-Steve was placed into the Avengers team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

****Steve finds out very little about the weapon he can manifest. Well, actually, he finds nothing at all. No articles about using shields in battle (except from a very, very long time ago) nor accounts of anyone in the military manifesting such a weapon.

Why is this a problem?

Because Steve has no idea how to use it.

It's a defensive move rather than for an attack. Of course, being able to protect oneself from a demon's strike is a huge benefit. But fiends aren't creatures you can wear down through blocking their attacks time and time again. Steve needs to be able to push back somehow.

The shield is a close-combat weapon... or perhaps it doesn't have to be. The cadet gives it some thought- if he can _throw_ it, it will make for quite an effective hit.

Bucky watches Steve contemplate from the bed, listening to the _tap tap tap_ as the blond bounces the end of his pen against the table.

“When are you going to sleep with me?” Bucky asks, stretching across the bed like a leopard full from a kill.

Steve almost chokes on his own saliva, turning to face the demon, wide eyed and pink cheeked.

“Excuse me?” The blond squeaks.

“It's already past twelve and your schedule says ya need to be up by seven to go running,” Bucky states matter of factly, turning to lay on his stomach.

“Oh...”

“Oh?” Bucky quirks an eyebrow, leaning up onto his elbows. “You thought I meant _sex?_ Well, If you _want-”_

“No no no.” Steve shakes his head, gathering up his work into a neat pile. Why is he so flustered? Why is the demon looking at him like that? Why is _Bucky_ looking at him like that?

“No?” Bucky echoes the words as a question.

“No,” Steve says more firmly, refusing to meet Bucky's eyes as he disappears into the toilet to change. The demon chuckles to himself. The is no denying that Steve is stubborn...and perfectly adorable.

Maybe a little bit sexy too.

When Steve comes out, he tiptoes to turn off the main light, shrouding the room in a silver darkness that reflectes the essence of the moon. Bucky quickly slips under the covers, keeping one arm up as Steve shuffles in after him. Once the cadet has his back firmly planted against the bare chest of the demon, Bucky immediately wraps his arm around the smaller man.

They have known each other for barely two weeks.

Yet, Steve already knows that he wouldn't rest as easy without Bucky next to him...embracing him. Whenever the demon touches him, the blond feels _safe._ As if their bond is constantly vibrating in hurt until the demon's arms entwine around him, where it finally calms and settles.

Steve feels like the demon's touch heals every one of his aching bones, and wonders if it's merely because of the bond they share. Sam had said nothing about his demon's presence being healing, nor had anyone else. But Steve is too afraid to ask in case they think that there is something _more_ between the two of them. Something more than a demon and master. More than a soldier and his demon.

The cadet had once read of earth classes being used to heal wounded soldiers. Though to get a demon to do this is very rare and the fiend must be of a high level. However, a demon being able to heal its human counterpart out of free will is not mentioned anywhere.

If Steve got badly hurt...would Bucky heal him? Would he be _able_ to heal him? Would he even _want_ to? These thoughts flood the young soldier's mind like wasps around a hive.

“What are you thinking?” Bucky whispers, nuzzling the pale shell of Steve's ear.

“Nothing...” Steve murmurs into the pillow, ignoring the demon's prying.

“Come on, you can tell me... You're thinking so hard I can practically hear it,” the demon teases, placing a gentle kiss atop the blond's head.

“What?” Steve startles, twisting in the demon's arms to face him.

“Don't look so worried, I'm not a mind reader, doll,” Bucky chuckles, running a hand down the length of Steve's spine. “Though I would _love_ to know all your dirty thoughts...”

“I don't have any,” Steve scoffs, averting his gaze.

“Mm? None at all? What about that dream of yours?”

“I thought you couldn't read my mind!” The cadet yelps, much to the amusement of the demon.

“I can't. But I can certainly _feel_ the emotions behind them.” Bucky reveals, giving a light peck to the end of smaller man's nose.

Steve blushes at the demon's words, remaining silent. The room is so quiet that the cadet can hear his heart pulsating and his own heavy breathing mixing with Bucky's.

“I was thinking...” Steve begins faintly, fingers reaching out to brush ever so slightly against Bucky's chest. “...about your powers...”

“And..?” The demon presses when Steve didn't continue.

“That's all.”

“You were worried about something,” Bucky states, his hand dipping under the fabric of Steve's shirt to rub small circles across his back.

“Not anymore,” Steve breathes, pulling his own hand away from the demon. Bucky more than notices the loss of the cadet's touch.

The demon went to remove his arms from around the blond, but stops when he feels Steve move to settle into the crook of Bucky's neck. With every inhale Steve is swept away by the musky scent of coal and lightning. It's a comforting smell. Like dinner being cooked, or the dampness of rain after a sweltering summer.

It's distinctly _Bucky_.

Steve relaxes into the demon's embrace. Protected like a precious jewel locked in a safe.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks, resting his head above the cadet's on the pillow.

“Are you worried about me?” Steve mumbles, smiling to himself at the mere thought of it. The demon is quiet for several moments. The younger man isn't sure whether he heard or is disregarding the question entirely. “Bucky?”

“Go to sleep, _my little warrior._ ” Bucky hushes, pulling him closer. Steve's warm sigh brushes the demon's skin.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” the cadet whispers, exhaustion finally tugging his mind into the unknown.

Long after Steve falls asleep does Bucky also allow his eyes to shut. The demon listens to the sound of the trucks outside and the footsteps of a demon walking above. The whistles of a lone crow and the howling of the wind. Every noise is analysed for danger. Anything that could put Steve at risk is a concern for Bucky.

He can't afford to let his guard down.

        

“Keep up, Steve!”

“I- I'm. I'm tryin', Sam. I've got short- shorter legs. Than. You,” Steve huffs, out of breath. They have been jogging for just over an hour and Steve's stamina is starting to wear thin. The blond is pretty sure he can hear his friend laughing.

The _Avengers_ team is currently running along the dusty worn-out path around the academy, their demon's left behind in containment. In a month their fiends will join them, but for now, morning jogging is a team activity between humans only.

Steve hates running. He hates it even more when he knows that he is slowing down the whole team.

Truth be told, none of the cadets slacken for him, but neither do they abandon him by running faster.

“Come on, Rogers,” Tony interjects, grabbing Steve by the wrist and pulling him towards the front of the group. “We're almost at the end!”

Steve could have rolled his eyes at Tony's enthusiasm... but he's just as relieved to see the canteen in sight. Pushing forwards that little bit more, the cadets increase their speed as they reach the building.

“Thanks,” Steve breathes, back arched with his hands on his knees. He can't quite get enough air into his lungs.

“No soldier left behind, right?” Tony replies, breathing heavily.

“I believe the correct phrase is 'no man left behind'.” Wanda smirks. Clint makes a sarcastic remark under his breath that has Rhodey hitting him over the head with his trainer.

“Lets just go eat, I'm starved,” Sam declares, slinging his arm around Steve's shoulders. The rest of the cadets agree, fumbling into the canteen to grab whatever food they can. Once settled at a table, they all tuck in like they haven't eaten in days.

Steve looks around at his fellow team-mates.

If they had met outside of the academy, Steve very much doubts that he would have been friends with them. But, here they are. They share the ultimate goal: to become a good soldier. For that, a team is necessary. However, not _just_ a team. They have to learn to work together. And although there are still some faults, that much will be seen in their training... But the core of a team -trust- is very much there and strong.

Until otherwise, why wouldn't they trust one another?

When they want the same thing, there is no reason to bully and push. Working together will get them all what they desire: to protect people.

They have to have each-other's backs to do that.

Although right now Steve is missing the presence of someone else.

“You ready for manifestation training again?” Sam asks, spreading peanut butter on his toast. The blond glances up at his old friend, coming back to the real world. Sam instantly notices his hesitance. “Is there something wrong?”

“Hmm? No, not at all. I was just contemplating.” Steve smiles, albeit it lacks that certain contentment his friend is used to seeing from the blond.

Sam leaves it at that, choosing to let it slide for the time being.

After the trainee soldiers had finished eating, they quickly make their way to the containment building. It's situated next to the building that they had been manifesting in the week before and is similar to the demon dorms: all metallic walls and protected electric doors that rely on eye identification. When Steve left Bucky there that morning, he had left with the feeling of dread inside him. Albeit the emotion was more akin to guilt.

Each containment room is designed specifically for each class of demon- you can't put an electricity class in a room that relies solely on technology to open and close. In this case, they have physical locks as well.

The building is six storeys high: each level corresponding to a class of demon.Steve bids his team-mates farewell as he takes the lift that leads to the highest floor.The level consists of a long corridor that branches out into five different containment rooms. It's designed to hold light and dark classes.However, only one is occupied **.** Steve leans towards the triangular scanner by the first door on the right. A blue laser quickly analysed the cadet's pupil, while a green ray scans the rest of him. The door makes a deep buzzingsound as its locks unbolt.

The hatch couldn't have opened sooner- Steve is excited to greet the demon. They have spent every moment together since they met. So when Fury told them that morning the demons are to be put in temporary containment... Steve had become anxious.

Not only was he worried about leaving Bucky on his own -he is a demon and no one has any idea of his limits- but he knows he is being tested. The academy needs to see their students as individuals. Soldiers without demons. How their team operates without the influence of fiends. Steve understands this, and yet...

When Bucky isn't by his side, it's as if something is missing.

He feels...vulnerable.

Steve had subconsciously timed that they have been separated for merely 2 hours and 27 minutes (and 53 seconds)...but it feels like an eternity to him.

Though the reason it seems to feel that long is unclear to the cadet.

Is it that Steve doesn't have the constant smirking fiend beside him that he had noticed his absence more, or is it that he actually craves his company?

Steve smiles as he steps into the small grey room to find Bucky. But his face soon falls as his eyes fail to land onto the demon's form: no trace of Bucky remains. It's as if he was never there. The sight of the bare room brings about absolute panic.

Bucky isn't here.

Bucky isn't here.

_Bucky isn't here._

Steve can feel his pulse quickening, heart banging against his ribcage, mouth becoming dry as his body fills with alarm. Steve curses under his breath, turning to walk out, only to see Bucky leaning against the door- as if he had always been there, watching.

Steve opens his mouth to express his relief, but stops when his gaze meets Bucky's eyes.

The demon's posture is tight, as if boiling over with pent-up energy. Although his dark hair shadows across his face, Steve can still make out those silver orbs that reflect something like hurt. That expression tugs at a deeper part of Steve that he hadn't know to be there.

“I... I'm sorry... that I had to leave you here...” Steve tells him with the utter-most sincerity. Bucky's eyes harden, lips a thin line. Steve instantly takes a disliking to that scowl, especially when directed at himself.

Bucky pushes away from the doorway, striding quickly towards Steve. The cadet takes an automatic step back. But the demon is not deterred. As soon as the cadet is close enough, he pulls him into a firm, affectionate embrace. Steve gasps at the touch, and after a quiet moment, wraps his own arms around Bucky.

Steve can feel the ache in his legs fade as his mind becomes blank. The only thing that Steve thinks about is those strong arms as Bucky hugs him, and the sensation of their auras mixing unconditionally. Steve leans further into the embrace as Bucky plants a soft kiss on top of his head, inhaling the blond's enticing scent.

“We need to go to the manifesting session now,” Steve murmurs, his words slightly muffled as he talks into Bucky's chest. The demon tightens his grasp on the cadet for just a moment, a small squeeze as if that would keep them closer for longer...until they finally part.

Steve begins to walk back to the elevator, but glances behind him before reaching it. Steve knows the demon will be there, but can't stop himself from making sure.

“Right behind you.” Bucky smiles, following after the blond. Steve gives a slight nod, the tiniest of smiles echoing the demon's expression.

“I know.”

        

“And then this wire connects into this component here...” Tony explains, assembling the strange looking box and computer. “The screen lights up, see? This box then slides open, and you can put _essence_ in here. The computer then has a radius and it looks for matches.”

“That's actually... pretty amazing,” Steve admits, looking closer at the device. The main 'box' is made of the same dark metal the computer is made from, however it has white spirals that run around it like vines.

“Well of course it is. Its the latest demon tech,” the dark haired cadet beams, studying Steve's face. He has surely impressed the blond. Bucky watches them from the other end of the lab next to Tony's demon. Bucky makes no motion to interact with the other fiend- she is not a concern.

The cadets had all found themselves with free time after dinner, and Tony had offered to show Steve his latest work. So while everyone else heads back to the dorms, the blond is all too eager to go along to the tech laboratories with Tony.

“Lets try it out, I have some left over water class essence.”

“You have essence?” Steve questions as Tony begins to shift through a cupboard.

“Yeah, the demonologists here use captured demons to extract their essence. I think they're trying to weaponize it somehow... But good luck to them with that!”

“Weaponize it? How exactly?” Steve thinks that the idea seems to be taking demon 'usage' a little too far. The blond quickly glance at the demons- at Bucky.

“Beats me. But that kind of demon tech is years away.” Tony shrugs, coming back over with a clear vial half-filled with a light blue gas.

It appears very similar to the mist that occurs during manifesting. When Tony places the vial into the box, the white spirals turn a luminous blue as the computer screen flickers. “Here we go. See here is says a water class is twenty feet away? Its picked up on my demon. The other water class demons at the academy have been detected too. There's one a hundred and fifty metres away. Impressive, huh?”

“You can do this for any class?” Steve asks, completely blown away by the technology. This demon tech could prevent fiends from getting the drop on unexpected soldiers- the army will know exactly what it's up against.

“As long as we have essence samples. That's why I call this beauty the _Class-Finder,_ ” Tony clarifies, leaning against the table. “We hope to be able to use this to find higher classes, especially death classes. It'll give us the upper hand in battle.”

“This is a huge development. And you've worked on this all by yourself?”

“My father had the idea, I just... made it become a reality.”

“He wasn't able to himself?” Steve frowns. The cadet knows the Stark family is the forefront in making new demon technology and have been so for decades. Tony is following in his father's footsteps just as Steve is.

“No. He, uh, fell ill,” Tony awkwardly replies.

“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry.. Steve blushes, embarrassed. The blond steps a little closer to his team-mate in an effort to provide some comfort.

“No worries. I've just been working on this as a side project.” Tony dismisses Steve's concern, making it seem far less of a issue than it truly is. The pair stay silent for a long while, just taking in one another's presence. Bucky shifts on his feet and Steve doesn't fail to notice as their eyes meet. Bucky faintly bows his head, as if conveying a message only Steve understands.

“I had better get going,” Steve says, glancing between the demons and Tony.

Tony clears his throat, watching Steve's demon walk towards them. “Yeah, I'll see you later.”

“Night, Tony.” The blond gives a little wave at the door as he and Bucky leave.

“Goodnight, Steve,” Tony calls out to the cadet.

Steve feels anxious leaving Tony behind, but knows he will be fine. He does not feel that it is his place to ask about the other cadet's father, but rather believes it best to let Tony come to him if he so wishes to.

It isn't long before the pair are back in the relative warmth of the dorms. When Steve hears the familiar click of Bucky locking the door behind them, he turns to the demon with raised brows.

“How the hell did you get out of containment?”

Bucky halts, facing the smaller man who reminds the demon of a little defensive fox. Bucky cocks his head to the side, as if to say _'it wasn't difficult'._

Steve sighs: that morning he had just been relieved to find the demon at all, rather than demand there and then how he did it.

“You didn't go out of the building, did you?”

“No,” the demon replies quickly. His answer may have brought doubt, but Steve believes him. He can't imagine Bucky trying to get either of them in trouble like that. Although the demon pushes his limits with Steve, he is yet to cross the line that could get the cadet kicked off the course.

“Okay. Just... don't do that again,” Steve orders, though he feels that Bucky doesn't take his words quite as seriously as he means them.

Bucky smirks, coming to stand in front of the cadet. Steve looks up at those mischievous eyes that peer back at him. Like two never ending caves of shimmering crystals. The demon shifts closer, so close that Steve can feel his warm breath fluttering across his face, as if attempting to entice the cadet. Bucky leans his head down to gentle nuzzle up the side of the blond's throat, all the way across his jaw to the pink tip of Steve's ear.

“I'll make a deal with you,” the demon whispers. Steve can feel the hot exhale of his words upon him; making tiny goosebumps surface across his pale skin. As if cold, but instead, his body is filling with a certain heavy heat that scratches like butterfly wings against his insides.

He should have been afraid.

He isn't.

Nervous? Yes...

But not afraid.

He does not _fear_ the demon.

“I won't break out of that useless _prison._ If...” The demon pauses, retreating ever so slightly to stare into the cadet's blue orbs that remain just as wide and entrancing as ever.

“If what?” Steve asks, his gaze, for once, never falling from the demon's. The corners of Bucky's mouth raise as his metal hand comes to rest under Steve's chin. His thumb reaches to carefully stroke the blond's lips, the sensors picking up every indented line and smooth patch of rosy skin.

Steve feels every caress of the demon's thumb stroking his lower lip, like it's the only thing he can sense. Nothing else matters. Not the dim light of the room or the noisy pipes, nor the whirling of the wind or the laughter down the hallway. Not the light scent of mould or the itching of his clothes. Nor the beating of his heart that hammers against his ribcage like a bird flapping its wings to escape being caged. Just the feel of Bucky touching him.

“You let me kiss you.” The demon finishes, studying the cadet's every twitch and breath for a sign of a response. Steve stares at Bucky, a little confused and surprised.

A kiss in return for not breaking out again? Is Steve a little bit disappointed or grateful it isn't something _more_ that the demon asked for? Perhaps it's both.

“Okay,” Steve replies, as expressionlessly as possible. Though the demon can see through his façade; can feel his anxiety as much as his heart pulsing.

Bucky brings his hands to cup Steve's face, holding him gently as he leans down to kiss him. Steve shuts his eyes, cheeks becoming tainted with a light pink as he feels the radiating warmth of Bucky come slowly closer.

Within what feels like an eternity, Bucky presses his lips to Steve's. They're so warm and inviting, soft and that little bit wet that Steve's heart almost skips a tentative beat. But just as Steve gets a taste of them, Bucky breaks their kiss.

Steve opens his eyes to see the demon step away. He instantly misses Bucky's hands against his face, and even more so the lips he can still feel the ghost of on his own.

The blond is taken aback by the sweet peck that had been most certainly unexpected. Bucky merely stands and watches the cadet, who, after a moment, meets his eyes once more.

In that second, Steve is not the aspiring cadet, and Bucky is not a calculating demon.

In that second, Steve is not the sick Brooklyn boy, he is not troubled by thoughts that cause him doubt and apprehension.

In that second, he is not a soldier- but he is _someone._

In that second, Steve's whole body moves on instinct alone. His mind is not fuzzy, but clear.

His desires are not shrouded by the uncertainty of the unknown.

The blond takes that step forward towards the demon, one hand planting itself at the back of Bucky's neck while the other presses upon his shoulder. At the same time, Steve bounces onto his toes so that he can press his lips once more against Bucky's.

The crash of unyielding lips soon became more as Bucky's hands firmly plant themselves onto Steve's waist, holding him close enough to erase any space left between them. Their mouths hurriedly move to reach some sort of rhythm, until finally, their lips begin to move in perfect synchrony.

It's the most erotic and blissful thing yet that Steve has experienced.

Bucky shifts his left arm under the fabric of Steve's shirt, tracing along the slight bumps of his spine, rubbing at the soft skin as he tugs the blond impossibly nearer. Little telltale moans escape Steve's mouth as the kiss deepens, his own hand tangling in the dark strands of Bucky's hair.

Steve's body is aflame, burning and sparking in the best way possible. Skin reddening in pleasure rather than apprehension. Any embarrassment from earlier forgotten in the haze of compulsions and attraction.

Bucky swipes his tongue over Steve's lower lip, and the blond more than welcomes the touch. Steve is certain his inexperience shows, but Bucky doesn't seem to mind at all. Rather, the deep growl that resonates in the back of the demon's throat does nothing but encourage the younger man. Bucky tastes so good- like fresh fruit and frozen winters in a fiery cabin with the promise of spring to come.

They kiss until Steve is sure his lips look swollen and red, panting breathlessly as they stare into each others eyes.

Steve slowly peels himself from the demon- not wanting to, but- knowing that if they continue they might do something Steve would regret.

Neither could take that chance.

Steve can still feel the demon's touch just as Bucky can still feel the cadet's lips against his own. The blond clears his throat once, staring at his feet as if they are the most interesting thing in the world.

Steve mutters something about going to get changed, so quiet his voice is almost unintelligible to the demon. But Bucky hears his words: he always listens to him.

Bucky watches the blond with a small smile as he disappears into the poor excuse of an en-suite.

Shutting the door behind him, Steve runs the cold tap to splash the cool water onto his flushed cheeks. Steve rests his hands on the sink, looking back at his own reflection in the mirror. Transparent droplets trickle down his face, lips just as puffy as he thought they would be.

Steve quickly changes into his night clothes, gradually opening the door with a drawn out squeak. The building is practically falling apart, and Steve is surprised that it hasn't fallen down on them yet.

Bucky glances up from the bed where he lay waiting for the blond. Steve hesitantly slides in next to the demon, planting his watch on the edge of the desk.

“Steve...” Bucky coos, encasing the younger man in his arms.

It has become a night-time routine they begin to play out automatically. As if their bodies decided it had to be this way of their own accord. Steve would get in bed, and instantly Bucky would pull him against his chest and envelope him in powerful arms.

They don't need to be so close. But somewhere along the line it became a compulsion. Something neither could deny and so never brought up.

“Mmm?”

“When do I get to come running with you?” The demon questions.

“You and I both know Fury said four weeks,” Steve mumbles in reply, a small yawn tailing after his remark. “Anyway, I thought you would be happy not having to...”

“Let me rephrase my question. When do I get to _see you_ _run?”_ Bucky teases, emphasis on his last few words as if putting across the primal nature of his declaration.

The cadet is not deterred nor intimidated.

Right there and then, Steve does not see Bucky as a threat. Not when he can virtually feel that smirk the blond has memorised. From the way the demon's eyes shine to the dark hair shadowing his face, even the slight upturn of those pale lips.

“ _Four weeks, Bucky,”_ Steve repeats, his words a groan with no real annoyance behind them.

“You know, Steve. I like it when you say my name.” Bucky whispers after a moment, as if it's the most normal thing to say like discussing the weather.

“Go to sleep,” Steve insists, face burrowing into the pillow. Chuckling quietly at the cadet, Bucky gives a tender stroke to the bare skin of his arms. Steve sighs softly at the touch, eyes closing as his body begins to descend into sleep.

“Goodnight, _my little warrior,”_ Bucky hums, placing a light kiss upon the blond's soft hair. The demon merely gets a small wisp of a tired response, but it's enough:

“Goodnight, Bucky.”


	6. There Are Some Things You Cannot Understand, And That's Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Five:  
> **Steve found no useful information about how to use the shield.  
> **Avengers began their morning jogging session (without their demons).  
> **When Steve went to go back and retrieve Bucky from containment, he had not been there until Steve turned back around. But Steve does not know how Bucky got out.  
> **Tony showed Steve the 'Class-Finder' which he had been working on (uses essence to predict where demons of a certain class are.)  
> **Steve learned that Tony's father had fallen ill.  
> **Steve took the initiative to kiss Bucky. ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

2 hours. 27 minutes. 53 seconds.

Thats how it began.

2 hours. 27 minutes. 53 seconds.

It isn't long- over before you know it. So, why does it seem to go by achingly slow?

Like a hiking through a mountain pathway with no oxygen.

It feels like forgetting to breathe.

Over and over again.  


As the days pass by...It begins to feel like drowning in eternal darkness.

A small window of light at the end- you could swim to it.

But you can't. You never learnt how. You can only flail your arms and legs and hope to get somewhere other than here.

You see other creatures. People like yourself.

They do not see what you see.

Light is all around them, they cannot sense the darkness, nor are they vulnerable to it.

 

You reach the light. Finally. Albeit your body is covered in sweat, your stomach growling and your lungs protesting.

But you make it. All is well. You forget about your struggles.

Until suddenly you find yourself in that darkness once more. The light is still there, further away but _still there._

_It happens again and again._  


This is how Steve feels.  


48 hours. 34 minutes. 12 seconds.

Over three weeks this is the total amount of time Steve and Bucky had spent apart.

48 hours. 34 minutes. 12 seconds.

This was why Steve hates their morning runs.

48 hours. 34 minutes. 12 seconds.

Because Bucky isn't there with him.

48 hours. 34 minutes. 12 seconds.

Just one week left and Bucky can join him.

48 hours. 34 minutes. 12 seconds.

Every second makes it harder.

48 hours. 34 minutes. 12 seconds.

This has changed their routine.

48 hours. 34 minutes. 12 seconds.

In a way, it has also changed their priorities.

 

Steve never fails to be startled awake by the repetitive beeps of his alarm. He would shower and, of course, Bucky would be there watching him, towel in hand for the cadet.

But, then they would walk side by side to the containment building, where Steve regrettably locks Bucky away- knowing full well he could escape. Yet, Steve proceeds to run, his team-mates surrounding him as they jog the windy path on the outskirts of the academy.

Breakfast is a must, although Steve finds it difficult to eat without the presence of the demon. Especially when he knows he is in containment. So if the blond takes some of the left over plums and gives them to the demon... Well, it doesn't concern anyone else.

As soon as the containment door opens, Bucky greets Steve with that sad look like a lost puppy, which only brightens when the blond reveals the fruit to him. It's a sweet gesture that soothes the demon. Even more so when they meet with an innocent embrace- like seeing an old friend after a long time.

It never ceases to feel like a long time.

Just having Bucky's arms around him for that brief moment is enough to have them both ready for manifesting. Because, for just a second, Steve can almost hear the beating of a heart not belonging to himself.

They are the quickest and most efficient at manifesting in class. Steve can establish the shield in less than 9 seconds and can maintain it for well over the given time period.

Lunch followed by research or more exercises (in the gym _with_ their demons) is Steve's second favourite part of the day. Because after that is dinner, and although the food isn't fit to serve a Lord, it only means that afterwards, they have complete freedom.

Steve is able to spend a few hours with his team-mates: discussing demon tech with Tony or old memories with Sam they share (only after Clint begged to know why they were laughing so much) with the group. It's something Steve hadn't experienced before. He had never been in a crowd full of people that actually _liked_ him. It's a good feeling.

However, that's not Steve's favourite part of the day. What the cadet enjoys most of all follows. When the sun sets and the cold night settles upon them like a blanket of dim silver light.

Steve gets to spend the rest of his time with Bucky: right up until the moment when the sun corrupts the sky into an orange glow. He _likes_ the demon's company. They exchange few words most of the time. Instead, conversing with little brushes of fingers or watchful gazes. It's not that they _choose_ to communicate this way, it is something that occurred without either realising.

Steve would sit at the desk, covering books and articles in his curly annotations. Like a hound chasing after a rabbit, Steve seeks information. His findings are never enough. For how far they have come, humanity knows very little of the demons they attempt to restrain. Bucky would lay on the bed, never failing to observe the cadet's furrowing brows and the way he chews on his bottom lip in thought. It's a captivating sight. Like a piece of golden art in a gallery of otherwise black canvases.

But, once Steve's eyes begin to ache and beg to be shut, and only after Bucky protests he must, he joins the fiend under the covers to rest. Bucky does not press or tease the blond further than they had gone before.

Their sole kiss remains three weeks ago.

Every time Steve thinks back to it, his face can't help but redden. The blond can still feel those soft lips and those calloused hands, and more significantly, those eyes that stared back at him. It reminded him of a certain vivid dream he rather keep to himself.

Bucky says nothing of Steve's confidence that night, or his choice to brush away the contents of those few moments their lips had met. Its not that either are _denying_ what had happened. Guilt or regret is felt by neither.

Even though Steve reasons with himself a deal is a deal, and he had merely accomplished his end of the bargain... both already know that it runs far deeper than that.

Yet still, time remains as unsympathetic to their desires as ever.

        

“Hey, Steve!” A voice calls. Steve turns to see Sam jogging towards him and Bucky.

“Ah, hey, Sam. Were you in the gym?” The blond asks, greeting the taller cadet. Observing the small bead of sweat that drips down Sam's forehead, dampening the dark skin.

“Yeah. I thought you were going to go today too, but I saw you walking off with your demon to the Knowledge Centre,” Sam confesses, his own demon sat upon his shoulder like a watchful vulture.

“I was looking into weapon wielding.” Steve confirms, continuing his walk back to the dorms, demon and man at his sides.

“Well, you did get a, uh, _unique_ weapon.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve sighs, “I can't find any useful information on how to use it other than for blocking attacks.”

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something...” Sam declares, clicking his knuckles in a nervous manner.

“Are you okay?”

“I'm fine, Steve. But I'm... concerned,” He replies softly.

“About?” Steve presses, glancing up at his friend.

“You.”

“Me?” The thought confuses the blond: he doesn't believe there to be any reason for one of his team-mates to worry about him

“You seem off these past few weeks. More so in the mornings I've noticed.”

“What makes you say that?” Steve averts his gaze, gnawing at his bottom lip without so much as a thought.

“You're not eating much at breakfast.”

“Thats it? Sam, there's nothing wrong. I've never been a breakfast person.”

“You and I both know that's a lie, Steve. You used to be so adamant about having a good meal in the mornings,” Sam argues, catching Steve in his little deception. He knows the smaller man means well, however, it makes Sam more troubled. “But, since getting our proper schedule... The jogging isn't making you sick, is it?”

“What? No. I'm not ill anymore, I told you that.”

“Then, _he's_ not making you sick, right?” Sam's voice drips with concern, that, and a hint of resentment.

“Who?” The blond frowns, not quite sure who his friend is referring to.

“Your demon.”

“Of course not!” Steve exclaims, more loudly than he had intended. “How could you say that?”

“I didn't mean anything by it- I was just making sure.” Sam puts out his hands in defence. “I worry, Steve.”

“I know you do. But you don't have to. If something is wrong with me, you'll be the first to know.” Steve retorts, annoyed, though he attempts not to take his anger out on Sam.

Steve hears Sam mutter words under his breath that sound a lot like _'I doubt that' ,_ as his friend eyes the dark class.

“Look. I understand you want to be a soldier, Steve. But if you lose control of your demon, and he hurts you... I guess what I'm saying is that you can trust me,” Sam pleads.

“I do, Sam. I trust you more than anyone.” The blond folds his arms loosely, his irritation fading by the second.

“You will tell me if you ever need help, or advice?”

“Always.” Steve smiles, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

“Okay, then.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I trust you to tell me,” Sam sighs- feeling like he's gotten nowhere but still _somewhere_ with the blond.

Steve can't help but feel a little guilty at that.

Bucky gently brushes Steve's arm with the tips of his fingers, a secret caress when the other soldier isn't looking.

Sam holds the dorm entrance open for Steve, letting the door begin to close just as Bucky is about to walk through. The demon quickly slips through the gap, growling quietly at the sight of Sam's form, before falling back in step with Steve.

When the cadets reach their respective quarters, they agree to meet up in a moment for dinner. Bucky glares at the other man, unsettling the cadet's composure before following Steve into his room.

The blond flicks on the main light, stretching up his arms as if to ward away the day's struggles. Bucky notices the pale, smooth skin the movement exposes, even if just for a few seconds.

Without thinking, Steve slips off his dirtied tank top and rummages in his wardrobe for a clean t-shirt. It's only when Steve turns around to put on the shirt does he realise the demon is staring at him. The blond roles his eyes at the provocative look, pulling on the baggy attire in an awkward haste.

“That man worries about you,” Bucky states.

“Yeah, he does,” the blond replies softly.

“He fears me.”

“He doesn't _approve._ It's just because he doesn't know anything about you,” Steve tries to explain, his back to the demon while he fiddles with papers across the desk. The articles are already organised, but it's another nervous habit that the cadet has developed.

“Are you afraid?” Bucky asks, stepping closer to Steve, aligning his body firmly against the blond's back.

“When we first met, you said that I didn't need to be afraid of you.”

“And you said you weren't.”

“Nothing's changed,” Steve breathes, putting down the files. He can feel Bucky's warm breath on the nape of his neck, so close Steve wonders if he aches from craning down- though abandons the thought. He is a demon, after all. He doesn't feel such irritating pain like humans.

“What are you thinking?” Bucky murmurs, placing a light kiss below Steve's hairline.

“Not this again, Bucky,” Steve groans, though his words have a tone of laughter to them. “You don't need to know every one of my bothersome thoughts.”

“But, maybe I want to know them.”

Steve doesn't reply to the demon's words, purely taking in their meaning- but more so the feeling of Bucky's hands gripping his hips gently. Steve closes his eyes, letting his head fall back against the demon's chest. Bucky wraps his arms tighter around the cadet's waist; he can hear Steve's heart pounding. It's so loud, it might as well have been in the palm of the demon's hand.

Bucky nuzzles at the side of the blond's throat, causing the younger man to tilt his head in response. Baring more of the pale skin to the demon, Steve takes in the tender touch. Bucky places a forceful kiss over the pulsating vein; the same point that had carried his mark all those weeks ago. Bucky gives a gentle tug at the skin between his teeth, a playful nip that has a deeper purpose.

“ _Bucky...”_ Steve gasps, unsure whether he is encouraging or warning the demon to stop. Perhaps he moaned the name just because he could... maybe because he wanted to.

Bucky lowers his right hand to hover above the waistband of Steve's trousers, his left coming up to rest against the smaller man's chest- the action keeps the cadet as close to the demon as possible.

Steve's own hands mirror the demon's, his fingers encasing as far as they can around Bucky's wrists, holding him in place. Bucky smirks, his mouth ghosting over the reddening area, tasting it and breathing in the sweet scent of Steve's warmth.

When Bucky's fingers begin to dip under the rough fabric of the cadet's trousers, Steve tightens his grip in a weak attempt to thwart the demon. However, the blond can't help but let out a small moan as the palm of Bucky's hand presses against his cock: only thin underwear preventing the demon from touching his heated skin.

Bucky teases the younger man; grinding little circles with his palm, the friction not quite enough, but still craved for. Steve lets out an embarrassing noise between a gasp and a moan, his whole body feeling every rhythmic stroke.

The blond knows his face is heated to a darkened pink- the blush surely spreading down and across his chest. Bucky's lips are still upon his throat, licking and biting, and then soothing the marred skin with light kisses. Each one sending little sparks to drip into the warmth that pools between his inner thighs.

“ _Bucky,_ _ple-”_ Steve begins, but is cut off by the echo of knuckles drumming against the door. Bucky pauses his movements, acknowledging the knocking that had disturbed them, but not quite willing to stop entirely. By the tune Steve knows it must be Sam waiting on the other side.

Steve curses under his breath, pulling Bucky's hands away as he slips from the demon's embrace. The cadet rushes to grab his grey hoodie from the wardrobe, zipping it up high so that the fabric would cover the red mark on his neck. Steve is grateful that it's a size too big, so easily hides his half-hard erection.

Steve opens the door with an appeasing smile, his friend leaning against the wall with raised brows.

“Was just grabbing my jacket. You ready?” Steve questions, if slightly breathless. Sam observed the blond's pink cheeks, and more importantly the grin that suggests Steve is hiding something.

“Yep. Rhodey and Wanda are waiting outside.”

“Ah, okay. Lets, uh, go then.” Steve looks behind his shoulder at Bucky who remains with his back to them.

Steve clears his throat as if to signal the demon to follow. The blond notices the way Bucky's shoulders rise as if taking a deep breath, only to slump back down after a moment.

The demon slowly turns around, finally choosing to accompany the humans. Steve waits until Bucky reaches them before the three of them walk down to meet the others. No one else has their demons with them -except for Tony- and when Steve asks Sam about this, the taller cadet admits that they have secured their fiends in the demon-dorms already.

Steve can feel Bucky's eyes on him, looking for some sort of clue to determine his thoughts.

The blond can't imagine just chucking his demon away like that, as if he's a nuisance. Of course, Bucky _is_ sometimes: though Steve gave up trying to push the demon out of his space the first day they met. There isn't really a _point_ (or so he believes) in keeping their demons locked up when it isn't necessary. Steve perceives the whole thing as having a pet you only get out when it's convenient for you. That is selfish thinking, and it doesn't sit well with the blond.

Perhaps it's because, many years ago, Steve never had the choice to kick people out of his life. There was no one really there for him to leave. And although it's a little daunting, having people around him now is not also comforting, but invaluable too.

        

Sunday comes by sooner than expected. It's the end of their sixth week at the academy, but it feels like an awful lot longer. Nonetheless, the whole _Avengers_ team had been ecstatic when Fury said they could finish up early that afternoon.

While some of the cadets are busy eating in the canteen, the others are joking around in the dorm lounge. However, Steve is with neither group. Instead, he is sat up on his bed reading his father's journal, back against the poor excuse of a headboard with his legs crossed.

But he is not alone.

Bucky lay next to him, on his stomach, resting his chin upon his arms as he watches every turn of a page. The demon wonders of the significance of the red journal, with its worn leather edges and tarnished sheets. It has the distinct smell of Steve resonate from it, albeit the fiend knows that it must be too old to truly be his. He is also curious as to why the book seems of such importance to the cadet.

_Why does he keep the item so close?_

“Steve...” Bucky utters the blond's name, drawing his eyes away from the journal.

“What is it?” Steve asks plainly, closing the diary but keeping one finger between the pages he was reading.

“Whose is that?”

“Hmm? This?” The cadet gestures to the diary with a wave of his hand.

“Yes.”

“Mine,” Steve answers, opening the journal once more.

“You're lying,” Bucky states. He can read every signal, however small, that tells the demon whether the blond is telling the whole truth or not.

“It was given to me,” the blond sighs, closing the diary entirely, temporarily placing it on the side of the desk.

“Oh?” This piques the demon's interest. “By who?”

“My father.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” The cadet's brows furrow in confusion at the question.

“Why did he give it to you?”

“To help, I guess. I don't know. He just left it for me.” Steve shrugs, unsure what sort of answer Bucky is trying to dig out of him.

“He went away?”

“...Yeah.” Steve admits, though reluctantly. He continues after a moment. “Actually, he went to this very academy. He was a soldier... He had a demon too.” Bucky stays silent, listening to Steve's words. “This journal was everything he learnt about demons while he was here... and when he went into the field.”

“You've not mentioned him here. He isn't a soldier anymore?” Bucky cocks his head slightly, curiosity making him push boundaries he doesn't realise are in place.

“No. He died,” Steve says flatly, as if he had pushed any emotions down into the depths of himself, covering them with a slate of indifference. “He left me the journal in his will.”

“How did he die?”

“A demon killed him.”

“What kind?”

“I don't know, Bucky. Just some demon. They wouldn't tell us,” Steve exclaims, his voice laced with the beginnings of frustration.

“Us?”

“Me and my mother...”

“Why don't you find out? Hack one of the computers. It wouldn't be difficult.” Bucky chuckles at the thought.

“Why? There's no need.”

“For revenge,” Bucky replies simply, leaning up onto his elbows.

“Revenge isn't the answer.” As the words leave Steve's mouth, he knows it's not what the demon believes. He can see the excitement in those cold eyes. Those blue eyes that express so much, but tell so little.

“No? Isn't that what everyone whose lost something wants?”

“Being a soldier isn't about revenge. It's about protecting others. Protecting those who can't defend themselves.” Steve justifies, staring back at the demon intently.

“You could do that being a researcher. So why come here?”

“My life isn't worth more or less than anyone else's. My capabilities should be used to help others.”

“You could do that in a lab. Wouldn't it be easier?”

“If I didn't think I could be a good soldier, I wouldn't be here,” Steve snaps, arms folding in child-like defiance.

Bucky has a feeling there's a reason for his decisions that the cadet isn't telling him. However, their argument ends there. Bucky doesn't enquire and Steve says nothing else.

The blond doesn't have to say anything. Bucky can almost taste the frustration and the anger that swirls inside the cadet's veins. Like this, the demon is level with the bottom of Steve's collarbone. He would merely have to lean forward to touch it, but he doesn't dare move.

The demon leans back down onto the bed, just as Steve rests his head on the partially cracked wall behind him. Both listen to the sound of a truck being unloaded outside.

It's as if an invisible wall has been built between them- transparent and yet solid like ice. If Bucky attempted to go around it, he would end up walking in circles, for the wall surrounds Steve like water around a desert island. But, maybe, if he pressed his face upon the wall, and allowed his warm breaths to grace it, perhaps it would melt. A small gap to allow the demon through. He knew forceful hits would not crack the barrier like they could to these building's walls.

A more gentle approach is necessary.

Albeit it's something the demon needs to develop: hard analysis and brute force are the ways of a demon like Bucky. Have been the habits of many demons for centuries- and remain so to this day.

Nature, when so deeply embedded, can be impossible, if not difficult to change.

Change must come from within. But when your very being is as black as the darkest abyss, there must be something to light it from the base. Like a candle in a endless cave, without it, you cannot find the way out. One must find their light, even if it doesn't come from themselves. Most importantly, one must be prepared to fight for the light, otherwise it could be lost or extinguished forever.

Steve sighs one more time, a long exhale that allows the residual anger to dissipate. There is no need to be irritated by the demon's curiosity. He knows that, and yet, he can't help but be aggravated. Bucky had touched upon a sore subject for the blond. But by no means is that the demon's fault.

Steve hauls himself from the bed, lifting up the end of the mattress to carefully place the journal. Checking the time on his watch, the cadet quickly gathers up his night clothes, ducking into en-suite to change. When he comes out, Bucky is exactly how he had left him.

The demon catches Steve's gaze.

“You need to get changed. You're not sleeping in uniform,” the cadet announces, staring down the demon who _'tsk'ed_ in reply. Steve walks up to the edge of the bed when the demon doesn't move. “Bucky,” Steve says sternly.

All in one sudden motion, the demon sits up on the mattress; swinging his legs to rest either side of the younger man. Although like this Steve stands taller than the demon, he does't feel that way.

Steve lets out a surprised gasp when Bucky's metal arm wraps around the back of his upper thighs; his other arm encasing him from his waist. He pulls the cadet closer, as if anchoring the blond to him. Bucky's forehead settles upon Steve's chest, just below where his heart is beating. Unsure where to put his own hands, Steve places them around the demon's shoulders- not quite cradling, but resting there.

After a moment, Bucky murmurs incoherent words. Like a whisper expressed clearly, but Steve can not understand them.

“What did you say?” Steve asks softly. Bucky says the same thing again, slightly louder, though Steve remains confused. “Say it again.”

“Uai oly o raak zadkeyl.”

“What?”

“Uai oly o raak zadkeyl.”

“Owahee holew oh raahak zah deck eya?” Steve attempts to repeat the sounds of each word. Though he is a little unsure where one word ends and another begins.

“Your pronunciation is terrible,” Bucky chuckles into Steve's chest. When Steve tries to pull away, Bucky doesn't allow his hold to loosen.

“Well I don't know what the fuck you are saying, Bucky!” Steve huffs, annoyed and frustrated once again.

“Uai oly o raak zadkeyl,” Bucky repeats once more. He looks up at the blond, finally allowing his grip to slacken as he clarifies his words. “You are a good soldier.”

Steve feels all his anger disappear instantly. He stares down at the demon, lips parted as he processes Bucky's words.

The younger man has no idea what to say. The compliment was unexpected and Steve is by no means used to receiving them. Of course, professors have praised him in the past for his good work. People even compliment him when he goes above and beyond their expectations. However his worth has always been measured in statistics that relied on the foundation of exams and practice.

But, no one had ever told him that he is a _good soldier._

It's an innate part of him- something you can't learn. There are certain principles and values that you just can't be taught and you can't explain. It makes them difficult to perceive and even harder for someone to judge another as a whole.

Characteristics that cannot be seen by the naked eye except by its effects.

Courage, determination, justice and honour.

Bucky sees right into his core.

Steve doesn't have to prove to the demon that he has the innate characteristics of being a good soldier, because Bucky already knows they are there.

“You still need to get changed.” Steve grins, giving the demon's forearm a little tap as he hops into the bed. Bucky gives a small laugh of amusement, smiling at the blond.

Bucky slips the black top from his skin, dropping the clothing onto the floor as he stands to remove his trousers. When he glances towards Steve, he finds the younger man watching him. As soon as he realises he's been caught, the blond blushes and turns away.

“Want me to change these too?” Bucky teases, gesturing to his grey boxers. The demon is pretty sure he sees Steve bury his face further into the pillow. Bucky switches into a clean pair: every one of his movements, every rustle of fabric is attentively listened to. Though the cadet doesn't have the courage to raise his head to actually look again. “Tomorrow...”

“Hmm?”

“Tomorrow...” Bucky begins again, coming back over to the blond to slip under the covers next to him. “We're jogging, yeah? You ain't putting me back in that cell, right?” He asks. Although his voice has no uncertainty in it, and his tone expresses no emotion, Steve has the inclination that Bucky really doesn't like it in containment.

It isn't quite fear-

“Yeah,” Steve confirms, sighing softly, twisting to settle into the demon's arms.

-but perhaps Bucky craves his touch as much as Steve aches for his.


	7. Even Through Darkness, I See You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Six:  
> **Sam mentioned his concern for the blond  
> **Steve told Bucky about his father's journal, documenting his time of the academy.  
> **Bucky stated that he thinks Steve should seek revenge for his father's death, but Steve refused.  
> **Bucky told the cadet that he is a 'good soldier' in a foreign language.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

****The first time the cadets and their demons run together... is -to put it politely- a disaster.

While Clint's demon refuses to run, Rhodey's runs too far ahead: trying to catch up to Wanda and her demon. Tony and his demon are even late and Sam's demon decides to destroy Bruce's water bottle.

It's mayhem.

Instead of running like a group, they are split more ways than a tree's branches.

By the end, everyone is soaked from the rain and covered in thick mud that had splattered on them when a truck had passed by.

The only thing that stopped it being their worst day yet was that Bucky remained by Steve's side throughout the whole session. Not once did Bucky growl or attempt an escape. He didn't resist Steve's instructions and he is grateful for that; even though he knows Bucky was watching him intently- as if planning something. He hadn't a clue what was on the demon's mind, but that doesn't matter, because Fury was studying them too.

Before they have time to catch their breath, the old soldier is upon them like an lion stalking its prey. There is a lot of shouting, even more flinching and a whole lot of disappointment. The cadets stand with their heads bowed down submissively, hands behind their backs. Maybe if they are quiet enough, Fury would stop glaring at them.

It's wishful thinking.

Eventually Fury lets them go. If they had tails, they would surely be tucked between their legs. They begin the steady walk back to the dorms, appetites long forgotten. Steve can hear Clint and Tony arguing more as they get closer to the building.

Steve is relieved to finally be back in his room. The cadet struggles to take off his shoes, carefully placing them into the corner to dry properly. He didn't need to be told off for having a filthy room, and he certainly isn't going to spend his time cleaning it if it got that way.

Cold, wet and layered with what he really hoped was just mud, the cadet grabs a change of clothes. Although he really wants to be warm and dry again, Steve takes a few minutes to clean his watch of the dirt that had accumulated in its ridges.

In reality, Steve is waiting for everyone to be done with the showers. Its not that he is embarrassed or ashamed of his body. He just isn't comfortable with the idea of others seeing him when so vulnerable. Among the other men, he feels so much smaller.

The younger man had somewhat gotten used to Bucky being there. He had to get used to it- there is no getting rid of his demon. Albeit when Bucky would give a particular seductive smirk, he can't help but blush then.

When Steve is sure everyone would be finished, the pair head out towards the showers. The hallway is eerily quiet, and Steve almost drops his clothes when Sam appears.

“Hey, I'm heading over to the canteen with Clint. The others are leaving their demons in the dorms so they can wash there while we go eat,” he explains quickly, tugging on his coat as he greets the blond. By 'washing' Sam merely means that water would be poured over their demons without so much as a warning- all the cadets have to do is press a button and walk away. As far as the academy is concerned, demons are not worthy of better treatment.

“Ah, okay. I'll see you in twenty then, yeah?”

“Alright, I'll save you some of the good stuff!” Sam exclaims, oblivious to the demon a few steps behind the smaller man.

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve shouts, watching his friend disappear down the corridor. As soon as they enter the shower-room, Steve chucks his clean clothes by the sinks and then jumps into one of the shower cubicles.

The water is freezing, but it doesn't do a terrible job of washing the dark mud down the drain. Steve peels off his dirtied clothes, throwing them over the side piece by piece. The water feels even colder against his bare skin.

Not even a moment later, Steve can hear heavy footsteps coming towards him that unmistakeably belong to Bucky. The demon watches him, resting against the cubicle door as if contemplating his next move. When the demon says nothing but leans even closer, Steve angles his head to stare at the fiend.

“What?” Steve prods, an attempt at a cool tone even though he is becoming more flustered by the second. Bucky continues to stare innocently at the blond. But Steve knows those eyes are wondering across his whole body. All of a sudden, the demon smirks. Those alluring eyes sending a shiver down Steve's spine.

“I'm dirty too, you know,” the demon states. But when Steve doesn't reply, he continues. “Mind if I join you?” Bucky says, his voice deep and just that little bit husky. His words more suggestive than they should have been.

“I do, actually- Hey! Bucky!” Steve squeals as the demon begins to strip off his own clothes. The cadet stares in disbelief at Bucky's bare chest- muscular and broad, his lower half hidden from view by the door. Steve doesn't think he would be able to breathe properly otherwise.

But then Bucky is opening the door and stepping in, and Steve finds himself quickly looking away. Of course, he is use to seeing Bucky's chest. Admires and craves the warmth of those arms. However...

Right now.

Right here.

_Shit._

Bucky is _naked._ Completely stripped and bare... and _so is Steve_.

This is new. A step forward. If Steve tried to go back his feet would touch air. The only ground remains on the path ahead. Like a bridge collapsing slowly apart after each step you take.

It doesn't mean you have to run to escape falling.

Bucky is right behind him, Steve can feel the warmth radiating off him as the demon closes the gate. The blond can hear his heart pounding in his ears, the icy liquid hitting his flushed skin.

Steve can't help but let out a small gasp of surprise as Bucky nudges the front of his body against Steve's back, coming under the water burst with the smaller man. The demon is a firm presence behind him, a unforeseen contrast to Steve's hesitant form. The water turns a darker brown as it pours upon them, cleansing the pair of the dirt that had hidden pale skin and tight muscles.

The blond should have been shivering from the cold water, but instead, his body is filled with a warm glow that flourishes from the heated being pressed against him. That warmth extends to the very tips of his fingers, sparking every nerve. It's as if every cell is on fire, even more so where Bucky slips an arm across his waist, the other gently holding the cadet's hip. Bucky gives a light stroke to Steve's skin where his hands rest, completely smooth and unblemished.

It feels good to touch.

And not that Steve would admit, but it feels good to _be_ touched.

Bucky places a small kiss at the nape of Steve's neck, continuing a path across each of the blond's shoulders. Tasting the droplets of water on his pale skin that has the very faintest hint of _Steve._ Each brush of the demon's lips sends a flicker of pleasure down the blond's spine. As if their bond is humming in approval as their auras merge more easily than they had ever before.

Steve can feel his body relaxing, slowly leaning further back into the demon's chest. Bucky gives a last lingering kiss to the blond's throat, before the hand that had rested upon his navel comes to cup under Steve's chin. The hand carefully guides the blond's face to angle towards the demon's. Steve does not fight the motion, but welcomes it.

For he knows what is to come next.

As soon as their lips meet, Steve melts into the touch. It's something so innocent. So simple... and yet, it never fails to be anything but exhilarating. When Bucky runs his tongue across the blond's lower lip, Steve parts them in response, allowing their kiss to deepen.

It takes no time for them to find a rhythm: their first kiss still lingers on their lips.

Every little gasp and moan that bubbles from the cadet's throat has the demon growling possessively from his core.

Steve knows the water that cascades down on them is a hindrance, but he can not risk turning it off in case one of them fails to swallow a particularly loud moan from the other. The idea of getting caught keeps the adrenaline pumping through his veins, but it also stops him from going too far.

“ _Bucky!_ ” Steve gasps, breaking their kiss for just a moment. He can feel the beginnings of Bucky's erection pressing against his lower back, warm and pink just like his own. But what made him call out the demon's name is the hand that had strayed from his hip to rub along his trembling thigh.

_Fuck._

“May I?” Bucky asks, his other hand coming to wrap back around Steve's chest.

“N-no, we can't,” Steve pleads, worry etching itself into the cadet's mind.

Is the risk of getting caught worth a few more moments alone together?

“I don't sense anyone in the building,” Bucky answers calmly. He can feel the blond's distress.

“We ha-have manifesting ne-next, Bucky,” Steve stutters. It's another excuse, he knows that.

In all honesty, it's an excuse just to himself.

“We have time. Its okay, let me make you feel good,” Bucky purrs, the hand at his thigh giving a light squeeze, as if that could release Steve's worries.

“This is enough,” Steve murmurs. It a way it is. But Bucky's touch burns in the best way possible, and he craves more of that new sensation.

“Let me take care of you, _Steve,_ ” Bucky whispers, planting a small peck onto the corner of the blond's mouth.

“Okay...” Steve gives in after a brutally long moment, more willing than his words had suggested.

“Yeah?” Bucky smiles, his eyes finding Steve's gaze. The demon waits until their eyes lock and he knows the younger man is looking right at him.

“Yes,” he confirms, putting that little bit more trust into the demon than he had done before. Bucky leans to kiss the blond again, those soft lips upon his own. Bucky rubs a small circle along the inside of Steve's thigh, a calming distraction for the younger man before Bucky finally wraps his hand around Steve's cock.

Bucky is slow in his movements at first. Pumping once, twice, before running a finger over the tender tip. Steve can't stop the little 'ah's that escape passed the bitten back moans. It isn't long before Steve is as hard as that dream had made him, except...this is so much better.

Caught up in the moment, Steve reaches one hand up to tangle in Bucky's damp hair, pulling the demon down to kiss him heavily. The only thing on Steve's mind is Bucky.

Bucky.

Bucky.

_Bucky._

Steve doesn't even realise that he is moaning the demon's name over and over. Bucky gently _“Shh”_ s the blond, who can all but roll his head back onto the demon's shoulder. Bucky smirks, giving little nips and open-mouthed kisses to the exposed throat.

When Bucky's hand gives a particularly tough jerk, he loves the tiny cries it pulls from the blond. Steve's cock is thick and red in the palm of his hand, his own just as aching as he grinds against the blond with each slight roll of his hips.

“Bucky, I-I-” Steve can't quite get the words out. He's not even sure what he's trying to say. All he can feel is the pressure building inside him, and knows he needs release.

“It's okay, _shh_. You can come,” Bucky coos into Steve's ear. Wrist twisting, hand picking up pace as Steve continues to let out little gasps somewhat resembling Bucky's name; until he shudders in the demon's arms.

He comes into Bucky's palm, but his release is almost instantly lost as the water continues to shower upon them. White hot release gone as if it never happened. But Steve knows it did, for Bucky's arms are still wrapped around him; nuzzling along Steve's jaw until the blond turns his head. Bucky places a small kiss upon those rosy lips, which rest parted as Steve pants to catch his breath.

“You better get dressed. Otherwise you'll end up manifesting on an empty stomach,” Bucky hums, removing his arms from around the cadet.

“What about uh- you..?” Steve clears his throat, looking everywhere but at the demon.

“Go get dressed, _my little warrior._ ”

Steve shuffles past the demon, his feet making wet sounds against the floor as he grabs a towel. The blond can still make out the silhouette of Bucky in the shower as he changes into his clean uniform. As soon as the cadet is presentable, he quickly walks back to his room to grab Bucky's spare clothes.

His pace is slower on the way back.

When he returns, Bucky has a towel wrapped around his waist, arms folded as he glances up at the blond.

“Here.” Steve gestures to the uniform, handing it to the demon. Bucky grunts in reply, watching the younger man collect their dirty clothes from the floor. Steve pretends not to see the towel drop in his peripheral vision, and he definitely pretends he's not glancing at the demon's toned muscles. Steve places their clothes in a black bag, leaving it under the shelf to be collected and washed. “Ready?” The blond asks hesitantly.

Bucky nods his head.

        

The next day was no better.

Well, perhaps a little better: it wasn't raining after all.

It isn't until the day after (and another shouting session from Fury) that they seem to finally figure out how to jog _effectively_ with their demons.

Steve is sure Bucky had been laughing at the others; as if the loss of control of their demons is something to be amused about.

The blond had cocked a brow at the demon, who only responded with smug smirks in return. But, the blond found himself running with more ease, and couldn't help but wonder if Bucky had something to do with it.

His legs ache less and his lungs didn't seem so tight anymore. Or perhaps it is that it doesn't feel so intense compared to the way Bucky had made Steve's body feel in that shower three days ago.

Every time Steve thinks about the incident... No, event? Escapade? What is Steve supposed to refer to it as? He isn't sure. But, whenever it comes to mind he can't help but blush at the thought. The scene plays in his mind over and over again. He is embarrassed about the awkward noises he had made, the way his body had reacted.

He had acted like a virgin.

Of course, he _is._

But Bucky doesn't need to know that. Albeit Steve is pretty sure he knows already.

The week seems to go by achingly slow. Only on Friday do the team actually manage to run with their demons without any issues. They have been able to figure out their places- where they are best situated.

Wanda and Rhodey run ahead of the group -them and their demons being slightly faster- while Tony and Bruce keep at the back with their fiends. This leaves Sam, Steve and Clint and their demons spread evenly in the centre. They run as a close unit, but each pair is distinct: it is easy to see which demon belongs to which cadet.

A week goes by without hassle. Their ears don't bleed from Fury shouting at them, nor does their routine fall apart. But, perhaps most significantly, Bucky hasn't 'attempted' anything with the blond. He doesn't try to kiss the cadet, and most certainly does not try to evoke more of those humiliating moans. Bucky's arms around him at night remain as familiar and innocent as ever.

Is Steve relieved? Yes.

A little disappointed? To answer no would be a lie.

He hasn't got the confidence to initiate such actions, nor is he brave enough to ask the demon.

To question the demon's motives... What does Bucky _want?_ What does any demon want?

No one really knows. Bucky is far more complex than any demon Steve has read about. His demon is unique and Steve had no idea _why._

If Steve was to have ever passed the demon on the street, there was no way that he would have identified Bucky as a fiend. Not any of the ones that they are taught about in school.

They know so little of the Netherworld. No mortal has ever entered that realm. Yet, over centuries humans have written about these creatures.

Is there more to demons than at a first glance?

Is that world, far more great and possibly more evil than they could ever imagine?

“Steve...” Bucky calls softly, his arms wrapped around the blond.

“Mmm?” Steve hums in reply.

“Are you thinking about me again?” Bucky teases, running a hand underneath the younger man's shirt, trailing warm fingers along his spine.

“Don't be so arrogant,” Steve mumbles, voice muffled by Bucky's chest. Bucky chuckles at that. The blond's stubborn attitude is surely award-winning.

It's not long past ten at night; the room enveloped in darkness, Steve can barely make out the lines of Bucky's collarbone.

“Bucky..?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you always live in the Netherworld? I mean, before we were.... _bonded_.” The word seems strange to say out loud to the demon.

“What makes you ask?”

“I was just wondering... I know you wont tell me much, if anything... but-”

“I spent a lot of time alone,” Bucky interjects. The is no echo of emotion behind his words: no feeling of sadness, no pain or regret. As if it's just a fact.

“You didn't live with other demons?” Steve questions. They know very little about demon behaviour, especially in the Netherworld. Right now Bucky is actually -somewhat- answering his questions, so how can the cadet not pry?

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Is there a reason I should have?”

“Companionship?” Steve tries, though as soon as it says it he knows its not right.

“We're not like humans. Demons don't seek that sort of thing...”

“Why?”

“Because you would always have to watch your back.”

Steve contemplates Bucky's words.

Are demons always so untrusting of one another? With humans Steve could see the reason. Did the Demon War put that much strain on fiends? Or are these creatures naturally filled with evil-intent?

“Didn't you ever get lonely?”

“That is a very human emotion,” the demon states simply.

“What's wrong with that?”

Bucky doesn't answer the younger man.

“Bucky?” Steve gingerly presses one hand upon Bucky's chest, right in the centre. “Can I ask one more thing?”

“You will anyway.” Bucky smirks, a hint of amusement edging into his voice.

“Is it big?”

“I'm pretty sure who know how big it is, doll.” Bucky teases, briefly leaning his body towards Steve's to push him back against the mattress ever so slightly.

“Bucky! No! I meant the Netherworld,” Steve squeaks, but it quickly turns into light laughter.

“It is...” Bucky pauses for a moment, as if trying to conjure up the right words. “...almost endless.”

        

“Hey, do you want to come up the labs? I have something cool to show you.” Tony smiles, a grin on his face as if he can't keep the excitement at bay.

“Sure, what is it?” Steve asks, walking along side his team-mate. The air is bitter cold around them and the cadet knows the labs will be just that little bit warmer.

“You'll see.”

Steve raises a brow but follows the other cadet nonetheless. The labs are strangely quiet. Steve assumes some of the scientists have taken off for the weekend. Many people working at the academy have families: are fathers and mothers, are sons and daughters, aunts and nephews... the list goes on. The blond couldn't blame them for trying to get off work early on at least one Saturday evening.

“Put this on.” Tony hands Steve what looks like a thin slate of glass; metal stretched around the rim with a metallic tail that clips around the ear.

“Its not going to laser my eye or anything, is it?” Steve jokes.

“Hah! Funny,” Tony jests, then more quietly: “It shouldn't...”

“How comforting,” Steve's voice is drenched in sarcasm.

“Its an interesting piece of demon tech.”

“What does it do?”

“Allows you to see auras.”

“I don't see anything.” Steve blinks his eyes at Tony, who looks just the same as he did a moment ago.

“Press the button on the side.”

Steve fiddles with the eyepiece until he feels the small nodule.

As soon as he does so, the world instantly changes around him.

Although nothing had actually happened: everything is still as it was. Except... he can see things he never thought he would.

Tony has a wondrous blue glow that seems to radiate from his skin, encasing his whole form and the area around him. It's like looking at fish in the bluest of waters. The kind of colour that, if you were to reach out, would feel warm.

“Wow.”

“Pretty amazing, right?” Tony grins, arms folded as he leans against the lab desk.

“Yeah.” Steve murmurs, mesmerized by the colour. For once he understands why their auras are used to entice demons into the human realm. They are truly a sight to see. What creature could not sense their beauty? Of course, humans can often _sense_ auras, but usually only strong ones. Demons are far more sensitive to them, and scientists have found that flaw. Exposed it in open air, and used it to entrap and en-cage.

Steve reaches a hand out, as if to touch Tony's aura, but he stops. Hand outstretched, the cadet can see his own aura wavering around him.

“Mine is...orange?”

“I would have said more _amber,_ but yeah.” Tony smirks.

“You've seen mine before?” Steve asks; he is the only one wearing the demon tech, so it confuses the cadet as to when Tony had seen his aura.

“Yesterday. I actually wore the eyepiece while we were running,” he confesses. But Steve isn't paying him much mind. His gaze has wondered to where Bucky stands by the door, face expressionless as he stares right back at the blond. All around Bucky... it is like looking at shadows materialising in every direction.

Although the demon can be clearly seen, his whole form is encompassed by a dull blackness- as if he is just walking through mist. Except, the darkness remains around the demon only. Bucky's aura is also far larger, it reaches at least twice as far into the surroundings than Tony's; though still strictly keeps to the vague shape of the demon.

“That must have been a sight to see.”

“It wasn't the most interesting thing.”

“What do you mean?” Steve turns his attention back to the other cadet.

“What caught my attention more, was that...How do I say this?” Tony glances between Steve and Bucky. “You and your demon... Your auras... _mixed.”_

Steve stays silent.

“You got faster, as if your stamina had increased,” Tony states, far from an malicious tone. “It's just an observation,” the taller cadet continues, coming to take the eyepiece from the blond. “Auras do tend to collide, of course. But... I was just wondering why yours seemed to entwine so extensively.” Pausing for a moment, their eyes meet. “Do you know why, Steve?”

“I-um, couldn't tell you, Tony. I don't have an answer...” Steve stumbles on his words. Does Tony know what they did in the shower almost two weeks ago? He couldn't have; Bucky had said no one was in the building. Surely there weren't any cameras? No. Impossible.

“Well, I've come to my own conclusion,” Tony muses. “Its your compatibility.”

Steve instantly feels like he could breathe again. For just a moment, Steve had thought the other cadet was on a completely different track.

“Right, compatibility...”

“You're unique, Steve. You and your demon.” Tony carries on, either ignoring or oblivious to Steve's awkward manner. “Everyone is expecting great things from you.”

“Yeah, or my downfall,” Steve mumbles.

        

“What are you doing?” Bucky asks, watching the blond sat at his desk. The cadet doesn't answer, or even make so much as a sound. “Steve.”

“Hmm?” The younger man clicks onto the next article, skimming but taking in each word.

“What are you doing?” He asks again, though all he gets is a non-committal mumble in response:

“Mm.”

“ _Steve.”_

“Sorry, what?” Steve glances towards the demon before turning back to the screen.

“I was askin', what cha doin'?”

“Oh, researching,” the blond replies, instantly absorbed into the articles once more.

“Well, I'm glad my eyes ain't deceivin' me,” Bucky dead-pans.

“Pardon?” Steve turns his head slightly towards the demon, but his eyes remain on the screen. When Bucky says nothing, he steals a longer glance at the fiend. The unamused look Bucky gives him has the cadet closing down the laptop. “Sorry... I was looking at auras.”

“Again?” Bucky cocks a brow, watching the blond shuffle a few sheets around on the desk.

“Yes, again.” Steve had been researching them ever since Tony had shown him the demon tech two weeks ago.

“Find anything interestin'?” The demon asks, eyes following every one of the blond's movements as he grabs his nightclothes.

“No one knows anything,” Steve answers, quickly scurrying into the toilet to change, though he keeps the door open.

“About?” Bucky calls. He can hear the cadet's clothes slip from his skin and rumple onto the floor.

“Why auras are unique. What's their purpose. Why some people have bolder auras... No one knows.” It's as if Steve can't get out all he wants to say- breathless like his knows his questions will never be answered. “Bucky?” Steve gently utters the demon's name, walking over to where he lay sprawled on the bed.

“Yeah, doll?”

“Tsk.” Steve rolls his eyes at the demon's words, or more specifically, one word. Bucky just opens up his arms for the cadet in response. “Can you see auras?” Steve questions, reluctantly (but for just a moment) settling into the demon's embrace.

“If I want to,” Bucky replies, pulling the duvet over them.

“So, you can turn it on and off?” Steve guesses.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes, nuzzling at the blond's hair. Steve just continues to bombard the demon with questions. However, Bucky doesn't mind at all.

“Can all demons do that?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why what?” Bucky pauses his movements for just a second, before his hands continue to roam the blond's form. The demon can feel Steve's calmness radiating from him: Bucky's touch on his arms, along his back, no longer brings anxiety or uncertainty with it. Not when Bucky's fingers feel so good with each caress that has their bond humming.

“Why do demons want to seek out auras?”

“We're predators,” Bucky growls playfully, giving a quick nip to the shell of Steve's ear.

“Very funny. But seriously.” Steve presses his hands against the demon's bare chest to lean back, so he can look into those eyes that glow just the faintest hint of silver.

“More powerful beings have stronger auras.”

“You have a large aura.”

“Yes.” Bucky smiles, it's like the cadet has praised him in some way. “But it's not just about size; but how intense they are.”

“How so?”

“When someone is close to death, their aura fades, until it disappears completely as they die,” Bucky explains, one hand eagerly resting on the pale skin of Steve's hip where his shirt has ridden up innocently.

“Where does it go?”

“Back into the earth. Auras are raw energy.” Bucky pulls the younger man closer to him, who doesn't resist the tight embrace. The feel of those delicate bones and pink skin grounds the demon as much as it does to Steve; cradled in arms that are not all flesh and marrow.

“You know a lot.” Steve mutters into the crook of Bucky's neck.

“I've experienced a lot.”


	8. Was It Chance That Brought Us Together, Or Fate?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Seven:  
> **The Avengers ran for the first time with their demons (It didn't go well at first).  
> **The shower got rather steamy between Steve and Bucky ;)  
> **Bucky admitted to spending an awful lot of time alone before meeting Steve.  
> **Tony showed Steve some demon tech (eyepieces) that allow one to see auras.  
> **Bucky informed Steve that he can see auras (when he wants to) and that more powerful beings have larger auras.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

“Ouch. Thats gotta hurt.” Sam squints.

The _Avengers_ and the other first year teams are watching (from not quite a safe enough distance) the two fifth year teams training. It's a planned out battle to demonstrate to the new cadets techniques to use in the field. Steve writes down every move, noting each possible counter-move before the opposite team had even retaliated.

It's like a game a chess.

Except, there is the uncertain likelihood of the round ending in death.

It's their eleventh week at the academy.

They have learnt so much already, but they have only scraped the surface of everything they need to know.

This year is dedicated to learning to control and manipulate their demons, for the next year is intense battle techniques and possibly their first field mission. Steve is excited, they all are. In four years time, they will be the soldiers they see before them now.

Its a long road ahead.

But with Bucky as his demon... Steve thinks it'll work.

“Did you see that? She almost knocked that guy's brains out!” Tony exclaims, as if he can't believe such calculated violence could come from a woman. Or perhaps it was the brutality that shocked him.

Fifth years sure don't mess around.

While their demons remain on the sidelines, their bonded humans manifest weapons in the centre of the tarmacked field. Steve is sure it used to be a football pitch once upon a time. But a long time ago indeed.

The sound of a gunshot rattling through the air has all the cadets and their demons frozen in place immediately. While the first years look around in shock, the fifth years merely let their weapons dissipate as they form a single line. Steve almost didn't realise Bucky's hand had grasped the blond's arm as he presses closer against Steve's back. It's almost as if the demon is shielding him.

Steve suddenly sees Fury walking towards them, gun in hand. Bucky must have noticed him too, for his grip releases on Steve's arm as he takes a step back again.

“I hope you've all learnt something today,” Fury booms, staring down the young cadets with that piercing eye.

Steve has definitely learnt something: never hesitate. Certainly not in the midst of battle, otherwise someone, or _something_ , will get the better of you.

“Alright then, feel free to hassle the fifth years if you have any questions. I expect to see you all in the Gym in an hour.” With that said, Fury turns on his heels to address the older cadets.

The heat is surprisingly heavy: the sun high in the sky and baring down on them. Not a cloud in sight. So clear, Steve can even depict the silvery outline of the moon in the distance.

“Anyone else want to grab lunch?” Clint asks enthusiastically, hands clasping together as if to gather their attention.

“I swear all you think about is your stomach, Clint,” Rhodey chuckles.

“It's my most important organ!” The cadet counters. Agreeing to eat together, the cadets make their way through the sun's rays to the cool air of the canteen. Their demons follow obediently behind, like ducklings following their mothers. Except, it is more like a group of komodo dragons waiting for their prey to fall.

Steve glances behind him to meet Bucky's stare. Whenever the blond looks, his demon is watching his every move. But... there is no malicious intent in those eyes.

Before, those eyes would have sent a shiver down his spine, though now they seem to make his pale skin blush. As if his body remembers their kisses... Bucky's touch upon him. The feeling it had brought with those fleeting caresses and long nights of sinless embraces.

Is it a sin?

When Bucky had kissed him?

When Bucky had touched him?

_Is it a sin?_

Surely something that feels so good, doesn't come without consequences?

Perhaps life doesn't function in the ways one wants it to... So all that's left is hope.

Hope and the memories, with desire for a future.

Rules are made to be bent... broken, slashed and torn.

Steve never thought he would be the one to cross boundaries.

But, when something feels so _right,_ how could fate let it be wrong?

Possibly... destiny makes it own rules.

      

The Gym building is enormous, dissected into a weight lift room; rowing equipment, treadmills and all sorts of other rooms filled with exercise machines Steve had never heard of. There is also a whole level as a dedicated firing range, which, of course, the first years are not allowed on.

Most importantly, there's a small medical room on the ground floor. Steve could only imagine why they need it there, especially when there is a larger medical centre just over a five minute walk away.

The _Avengers_ separate to work on their own weaknesses.

It's something Steve noticed...a subtly that peaks the blond's interest.

The cadet's weaknesses are similar to that of their demons, or perhaps, the demon's weaker points match their human counter-parts. Tony and his demon have a flaw in their speed, while Sam and his demon lack flexibility. Wanda and her demon are more athletic, but struggle with coordination.

Is it because of the bond? Are their weaknesses becoming each-other's?

But, here's where Steve's theory begins to fall apart.

His weakness is strength.

Unsurprisingly, seen as he barely has enough muscle in his arms to pull a full shopping trolley.

Bucky doesn't have that vulnerability. The demon... _his_ demon is strong in every aspect...

He had put the cadet to shame when Steve had glanced to find Bucky bench press weights that had looked well over six-hundred pounds. The demon had merely given him a smirk in reply, with eyes that screamed ' _are you impressed?'._

Of course he fucking was.

But he'll be damned if he admitted that fact.

“Where to today?” The demon asks, following the cadet down the metallic corridor.

“The same place as always, Bucky.”

“Mm.”

“Except this time...” Steve begins, glancing to his side to look up at the demon.

“What?” They come to a stop as Steve opens the door to one of the empty weight rooms.

“You can hand me the water,” Steve smirks innocently, staring at the demon whose lips have simply turned up in the corners, as if the blond's words amuse him.

“You want me to stand and look pretty, Rogers?” Bucky raises a brow, his expression nothing but a smirk as he watches the cadet stroll up to one of the exercise benches.“I'm sure you would do a better job at that.”

“Are you insulting me, or flirting?” Steve turns to face the demon, a small smile on his lips.

“Which would turn you on more?” Bucky teases. Steve is _almost_ mortified at the demon's response. The younger man rolls his eyes, an attempt to ignore the fiend who wanders slowly closer.

Steve lies on his back against the fabric bench, legs bent at the knees on either side. Shuffling up slightly, the weight pole stretches above him. Steve checks the weights before he takes hold of the pole with both hands, hooking it off of the clips to let it loose. It isn't too hard, but it isn't effortless. Pulling down to his chest, then pushing so that his arms remain just that little bit angled.

It is no where near as much as Bucky could lift, but it is a grand improvement than what it would have been five years ago. Granted, he would have been even younger then... but if the blond believes he is making progress, that he can only go up in terms of physical fitness, then... he can only get stronger.

Steve lifts the bar back onto the clips, wanting to lift more. Bucky seems to read his mind, as the demon grabs heavier weights to place onto the ends of the pole. Steve mindlessly watches the demon at work, until he realises what Bucky is doing.

“Bucky, I can't lift that much!” Steve exclaims, leaning up only slightly as to not hit his head on the bar- although the blond is sure Bucky would find than that hilarious.

“Sure you can,” Bucky replies nonchalantly.

“No, I can't,” the blond insists.

“I'll help you.”

“You're not supposed to.”

“I wont touch it, just you.” The demon smirks.

“And that will magically allow me to lift....what is that? Two hundred pounds?” Steve guesses, though the not so innocent look on Bucky's face tells him its more.

“Two fifty.”

“Shit, Bucky.”

“Just try it,” the demon orders, though his tone is gentle. Steve sighs, leaning back firmly on the bench as his hands rest on the bar once more. No one can blame the blond for letting out a tiny squeak when Bucky sits opposite him, grabbing underneath the cadet's thighs to rest them on the demon's hips.

It was all in one quick motion, then Bucky is leaning forward so his head hovers over Steve's chest, all serious and cocky at the same time. It's as if the demon knows exactly where to press, exactly how to act to get the cadet's heart racing.

Bucky presses his left hand over Steve's stomach, while the other rests upon the space between the blond's pectorals and the base of his throat. The demon's presence is like a heavy weight grounding him to the earth.

Both human and demon can feel their bond vibrating, jerking this way and that as their auras entwine into a mass of amber lines and black spirals.

Steve would have been in awe if he could see it.

“Try now.”

“Bucky...” Steve whines, his grip still tight around the bar but his mind unsure whether he could lift it.

“You can do it,” the demon encourages the blond. It would have pulled at the cadet's heartstrings, if it wasn't for that devilish smirk. “Come on. Take a breath.”

Steve does. He breathes in the cool air, lets it fall from between his lips as he exhales. He pushes against the pole, eyes focused on its metallic lining.

It doesn't move so much as an centimetre, never mind a inch. Not even a millimetre for that matter.

The whole situation is just becoming embarrassing.

“This isn't working, Bucky.” As soon as the words leave his lips, Bucky is shifting back on the bench... and pulling Steve with him. The blond leans up, the bar no longer above him but his legs still around the demon's waist.

“Give me your hands.” Bucky holds out his own as if to demonstrate. Steve glares at him like an angry kitten. Or at least that's how Bucky takes it. The demon stares blankly at the younger man, hands lingering in the air as if to repeat the question.

Steve finally gives in, moving his hands towards Bucky, but instead of the demon taking his hands, he wraps his finger's around the cadet's wrists. The demon pulls the blond closer, leaving inches between them.

It takes a moment for the cadet to register exactly what's happening, then all he can do is sigh in content.

Bucky presses tender kisses to his arm, all the way from his shoulder joint, to the palm of his hand and every piece of pale skin along the way. Even the blond's wrist that almost looks blue with the veins pulsating with every tug of a heart beat.

Each caress is hot and that little bit wet; it has Steve's skin tingling with the sensation of _Bucky._ When the demon kisses just as gently down the other arm, Steve practically melts. Before the blond's thoughts disappear completely, the demon releases his grip on the cadet's wrists. Steve hadn't even realised his eyes had closed.

When he opens them, Bucky's blue orbs are watching him. In that second, the demon's eyes almost seem _warm._

“Try again.”

Steve does. They resume the same position as before, except this time, his legs stay more firmly linked around the demon's waist. Bucky is his anchor. Bucky gives him strength.

Bucky makes him stronger.

And its true, Bucky does make the cadet stronger. In so many ways they are yet to discover.

When Steve attempts to lift the bar again, it takes a moment. But, soon a certain spark of heat... of electrifying energy -similar to when they manifest- courses through him and the bar unclips. It should have come crashing down onto Steve's chest... It doesn't. His arms remain unyielding.

He only manages one lowering and pushing up of the weights until his amazement unsettles his composure. Though its enough to have the cadet grinning as if he had won the greatest prize of all.

“I did it,” Steve says breathlessly.

“You did.”

“I actually fucking did it.” It's a laugh of disbelief as Steve ducks his head under the bar to come face to face with Bucky.

“I knew you could.”

“Want a reward for helping?” Steve asks after a blissful moment, fingers gripping into Bucky's shoulders.

“Are you flirting with me, _my little warrior?”_ Bucky grins, his arms wrapping loosely around the cadet's lower back.

“I meant, did you want fruit from the canteen?” Steve explains, though his voice wavers even through the confidence.

“I'll have the forbidden fruit.”

“What's that suppose to mean?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, Bucky's lips are upon his own. A short and sweet kiss that lasts only a few seconds, but Steve wishes had lasted for longer... much longer.

The blond frowns at the thought, abandoning the idea as he unwraps his legs from around Bucky. Steve stands, the demon mirroring his movements. The blond turns to peek at the demon as he walks to the door, but the look he finds has him walking back towards the fiend.

Its that same plain expression that Bucky used to get when in containment, with eyes pained and his jaw clenched.

Steve can't read the demon's mind...

Many would say there's no point as there are no emotions to find.

Though Steve can't help but jump onto his tiptoes to place the tiniest of kisses onto the corner of Bucky's lips. The smile he gets in response has Steve's heart aching.

“Get that smug look off your face, lets go eat.”

Bucky just smiles harder.

      

Steve can't stop thinking back to what Tony said a month ago: about theirs auras mixing and their compatibility, their uniqueness. It plays like a record in Steve's mind, nagging him to dig deeper. To come to a better understanding...

Because, no matter all the books Steve has read, the piles and piles of research he has done... Nothing can explain why the bond he shares with Bucky is the way it is. Not even his father's journal.

Steve wants to know more about the demon.

Its a last stretch of hope to discover a piece of a very large puzzle. Especially when all the other pieces in his hands don't seem to fit.

Steve has known the demon for almost thirteen weeks.

Thirteen weeks and Steve knows little to nothing about the demon.

What does he know..?

Does he actually know anything about Bucky?  


Demon.

Dark Class.

Warrior Type (with traces of a trickster).

Level 55.

Black, feathered wings (retractable- where do they go?).

Likes plums.

~~Is hot as hell.~~

Is very attractive.

Extremely strong.

Can manipulate shadows and fire.  


Most of what Steve knows is to do with his physical attributes.

The question Steve has now is... _Is there more to know underneath all of that?_

Steve spits the toothpaste into the sink when something clicks in his mind. It takes a second for the blond to realise it, but he soon depicts the shadow of the demon under the closed door.

“Did you want to use the bathroom?” Steve asks, he very much doubts it, but it's worth a shot. Even if it's a shot in the dark.

“You usually don't close the door when you use the sink,” Bucky answers, ignoring the blond's question.

“Because I'm going to pee,” Steve snaps, wiping his mouth on a small cloth. The demon is quiet for several moments.

_Why is Bucky hovering?_

“You're not urinating.”

“ _Oh my gods_ , _Bucky_. No. I am not,” Steve huffs, mortified and turning a light shade of pink. The cadet knows the demon is still there, as if ready to pounce. “Bucky.”

“Yes?” The demon answers, just as Steve knew he would.

“Go to bed,” he commands, though there's no real authority to it. Contemplating his next move, it takes the demon a moment to respond.

“I'll be waiting for you.”

Steve waits until he hears Bucky's barefoot steps getting further and further away before using the toilet. It's moments like this when the demon is too curious for his own good, or rather, too curious for Steve to handle.

It feels like the demon is constantly analysing him. Watching for any anomaly or abnormality. Then he goes and says something that has Steve breathless or at a loss for words. The demon is trying to see the different reactions he can evoke from the younger man.

Steve, innocent and inexperienced... is at the demon's mercy.

The only time Steve doesn't feel like he is loosing his mind is when he teases the demon himself. Banter is a way to hide words that lay far deeper in his chest.

Steve flicks the bathroom light off as he opens the door, looking around for the demon. The blond catches the brief glow of eyes on the bed, though he doesn't turn towards them. Instead, Steve settles himself onto his chair, laptop open and screen flickering with documents.

The only light that illuminates the room are the blue rays of artificial light from outside the window. Steve isn't too sure what the soldiers are doing outside so late at night, but he doesn't ask either. The huge painted truck and the distant sound of shouting tells the cadet its not something good. He wonders if they are transporting a demon, but there isn't a reason to not do that during the day.

They are clearly trying to keep a low profile: the academy has many secrets, and Steve may never get to know any of them.

“Do you like jogging with the others?” Steve finally asks, leaning back in the chair to face the demon who sits cross-legged, waiting.

“The other soldiers?” Bucky questions, unsure of what the cadet is asking.

“I meant more the other demons.”

“Those children are pathetic.” Bucky folds his arms, back pressed firmly against the wall. He said it as if the very existence of the other demons offend him.

“Why do you think that?”

“They are inexperienced. They are mere infants,” the demon explains, each word is spat like lightning amongst thunder.

“Why do you refer to them as such?”

“It is what they are,” Bucky states, indifferent. The other bonded demons do not concern him, nor would they ever. But, like humans to demons, he sees them as inferior. Not less valuable. No less capable of potential. But, _weaker_.

In a world where only the strong survive, to find yourself submerged under the weak, can make one feel as if they are suffocating.

For someone so powerful... there are few escape routes.

Bucky does not see Steve as one of those demons. He does not associate this particular human to any other living being. Steve is Steve. And _Steve_ gives him air in a world that would otherwise try and drown him.

“Children?” Steve raises a brow at this, confused as to Bucky's choice of words.

“Yes.”

“And you're an adult?”

“Yes.”

“Because you know more?” The blond guesses, though the plain expression he gets in return implies theres more.

“Because I am older.”

“Older?” Now, _this_ truly piques the blond's interest.

“They are only a hundred, the oldest, perhaps two hundred years old.”

“How old are you?” Steve asks softly after a moment, his voice quieter than he had intended.

“More than eight hundred of your years.”

“You don't even look thirty...” Steve mumbles to himself. In truth, he is trying to give his brain a moment to process what Bucky had just told him.

“Come here.”

Steve stays rooted to the chair of his desk.

Everything they think they know about demon ages... is _wrong._

Right now, only Steve knows the truth.

Is Steve suppose to tell anyone what he's learnt?

No.

Because that could put Bucky in harm's way.

Steve cannot, and will not, let their bond be stripped bare and shattered.

“You don't need to be afraid of me.”

Blue orbs stare into silver ones as Steve meets Bucky's gaze. Although Steve's instinct tells him to look away, he finds himself unable to. The blond slowly rises from the chair, bare feet taking purposeful steps towards the edge of the bed.

As soon as his knees hit the mattress, Steve places his hands onto the rough fabric, crawling up to the demon. Bucky doesn't move: mesmerised by the cadet's slight sway of his hips and the plump lips that seem to beckon to him. Its a mere second until the demon is within arms reach. The blond kneels to straddle Bucky's lap, hands coming up to firmly grasp the back of the demon's neck.

All the while their eyes remain focused on the other, never, not even for a moment letting their gazes fall. From Steve's position, he looks down upon the demon as he aligns their chests, pressing thin material against bare skin.

Steve's heart is beating rapidly. Excited and full of adrenaline. He can hear his pulse drumming in his ears like an non-rhythmic song. If the blond's fingers weren't starting to coil in Bucky's hair, they would surely be shaking.

Their warm breaths intermingle, only becoming more entangled when their lips meet in a desperate and fierce kiss. Bucky quickly wraps his arms around the cadet's waist. Steve is utterly hot and giddy under the demon's unyielding touch. The feel of their mouths in sync, of tongues exploring and claiming... it draws urgent moans and little gasps from them both.

Steve sinks back to sit properly in Bucky's lap, his small form fitting perfectly atop the demon's folded legs. Steve isn't sure which one of them moans louder when the blond unintentionally grinds down against the demon. He holds Bucky's face in his hands, feeling the faint hint of stubble along his jawline. The demon's own hands dip under the blond's shirt, planting themselves on the silky skin of Steve's back.

They are so close, melding as one, yet as two very distinct beings.

An innocent soldier and a lethal demon.

“I'm not afraid,” Steve whispers, pulling from the kiss. Though all he wants to do is kiss the demon again. It's a desire that had lashed out, and Steve isn't sure how to contain it.

Its enough to have the cadet shaking and his mind swamped with thoughts.

But, he manages to fall asleep anyway... in the demon's arms.

Steve's... _affection_... for the demon is out in the open.

Or as out in the open as it can be.

Is it even affection? Is that the right word to use?

An endearment, or an infatuation.

It doesn't really matter.

Bucky can sense it.

Bucky knows Steve craves his touch. Wants it more than anything.

The demon does not prey on those facts.

Bucky keeps his arms wrapped tightly around the blond as they rest, never wondering lower and not daring to remove even a single item of the younger man's clothing. Even as tempting at it is to do so. The fiend has a dilemma.

Bucky wants to have sex with Steve.

Wants to make the blond scream in bliss and cry out in ecstasy. Wants his whole body hot and wet underneath him. Wants to feel Steve's shaky breaths in his ear and touch every part of him; warm and begging for the demon's embrace. Wants to give him pleasure no one else can. Wants him to _know_ , that Bucky...

That Bucky is someone Steve can give himself to.

Completely and unconditionally.

Bucky wants him.

But he can't have him yet.

So he had let the blond's head rest on his shoulder, both breathing heavily after their kiss. When Steve had finally exhaled softly, and his heart fluttered more slowly, he shifted them under the covers, the blond's legs becoming entwined around the demon's.

Bucky senses the cadet's eyes on him, and when he glances down, blue eyes look lazily back, before they disappear behind tired eyelids.

It's a long while before Bucky slips into a deep sleep, thinking only of the cadet, and the world around them.

      

The cadet is troubled. But it's not until two weeks later that he finally figures it out.

While Steve is reading his father's journal, he comes across something strange.

He had read this part before. Plenty of times. But, now knowing Bucky's age, the words almost have a different meaning. The yellow pages and the black ink seem far brighter- as if illuminating the next piece of a puzzle.

Something that would suggest Bucky came through in the human realm of his own will, rather than as a mistake.

_Auras are used to entice a demon into the human realm. No one is sure why demons seek out auras, but the military has found a way to enhance them and send a wave of an individual's aura into the Netherworld._

_It's the lower level demons that respond. Those of a higher level are superior, in that they have more intelligence and strength to resist or understand the trap. They know its a trick: they have probably seen a fellow demon fall falsely into the human realm before. This is why higher levels demons cannot be caught this way._

_ They know. _

Had Bucky known? Did his demon know that when he stepped towards Steve's aura, he would become trapped in the human realm? Had Bucky known, but bonded with Steve regardless?

Steve has so many questions.

He doubts any of them will ever be answered.


	9. Darkness Can Be Broken With Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Eight:  
> **Avengers watched two fifth year teams train.  
> **Bucky helped Steve to be able to lift very heavy weights.  
> **Bucky confessed to being over 800 years old.  
> **Steve found text in his father's journal that would suggest Bucky came through the gateway of his own will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

****Steve glances at the demon for a third time.

A fourth time.

A fifth time.

A sixth-

“Can't get enough of me, eh?” Bucky taunts, leaning closer to the blond.

Steve tuts, staring hard at the computer screen as if he has some vendetta against it. The Knowledge Centre is completely silent; except for the buzzing of electricity around them and the clicking of the computer mouse. While Steve sits in the desk chair, Bucky sits on the table next to him, feet firmly on the floor rather than dangling.

Just _how tall_ is Bucky?

Steve can feel the demon's eyes on him as he resists another glance at the fiend. The cadet's head is chaos- filled with questions he _knows_ will not be answered, no matter the amount of begging or bargaining. Things Steve knows Bucky will smirk at, with blue eyes that love to tease. He's been lucky: he knows things about Bucky... about _demons..._ that no one else does. Although his knowledge may be vague, it brings a small smile to his face when he considers it all.

Does Bucky trust him enough to tell him these little details, or maybe -and this sends a cold wave through the cadet when he contemplates it- the demon is lying to him. Manipulating him as if hes a puppet on strings. Bucky is surely intelligent enough to do so. Though for Bucky to control him in such a way would be out of character for the demon. Steve does not see his demon as some malicious fiend.

He knows Bucky has the potential to be brutal. Calculating, even. But, to be vindictive doesn't suit the demon. Bucky always has a reason for every one of his actions. He contemplates his moves, but Steve doesn't believe him to do so in a way that would trick the blond.

The only reason Steve has any doubt about his own rational thinking, is that he knows the demon used to be a trickster type.

It's not right to judge someone because of their past. But, if the past has shaped one into being who they are today... then surely traces of our pasts are within us all?

Steve opens his mouth to question the demon, but its not his words that fill the air.

“Steve! Steve!”

Steve and Bucky both turn their heads to Sam as he bursts through the door towards them, demon scuttling alongside him. It's not Sam's voice that hints his incredulity, but his face. An expression of urgency: eyes wide and creases along his forehead. The blond is caught off guard by Sam's haste. Steve feels silenced; before he can even ask Sam for some hint of what's going on, his friend is bellowing an explanation Steve can only somewhat understand.

“You have to come see this now! Its one of the other first years- they're being unbonded!”

“What?” Steve's eyebrows raise in disbelief. That surely can't be true. They're in their fifteenth week at the academy. To make someone unbond with their demon this late in the course is practically unheard of.

Something serious must of happened.

“Just _come on!_ We have to hurry so we can watch,” Sam explains, already turning back out the door. Steve jumps out of his seat, abandoning the computer as it attempts to load another article. The blond hurries to catch up with his team mate, Bucky following closely behind.

The afternoon air is dusty and tickles the blond's lungs, scratching the corners of his eyes like dry sand on a windy beach. Steve tries to figure out where they are going.

It's not too long before they are walking into the same building where they had bonded with their demons. However, Sam leads them into a slightly smaller room that lacks the machinery for a gateway to form. Steve sees the _Avengers_ and the other first year teams gathered around the edges with their demons.

“So, what exactly happened?” Steve whispers, observing the brown spirals on the floor; they make an intricate circle around the centre of the room, with black symbols the cadets still don't understand the meaning of.

“The demon burned her,” Tony answers, his voice just as low. Steve is about to ask _who,_ when a ginger haired girl is led by Fury into the middle of the circle. Stained bandages wrap around her arms, though Steve his sure he sees the outline of more bandaging around her thighs and waist beneath her clothes.

The first year's demon is herded by two soldiers towards the cadet, who flinches at the mere sight of her demon. There is no reason for her to fear the fiend, for chains shackle the demon, keeping its arms across its chest as if in a protective gesture. The collar around the demon's neck glows a deep red, absorbing most of the demon's power.

It's clear the fiend has had enough of being pushed around. It growls with amber eyes that stare daggers at anyone who dares to meet its gaze. The fiend reminds Steve very much of Bucky: tall with broad shoulders, boundless muscles with the beginnings of stubble across his jaw.

It reminds Steve of Bucky, in image only.

“Lorraine says it burned her an hour ago,” Wanda tells Steve. The blond assumes the other cadet is referring to another one of the first years. “She went back to their dorms with her demon.”

“Instead of following the rules and training,” Sam mutters, clearly annoyed at the cadet's lack of focus. That's why Fury is allowing them to watch this unbonding. To set an example. If you don't follow the rules, you don't get the chance to repent for your mistakes.

“Does anyone know why it burned her?” Steve asks. As he looks around the room, Steve finds faces he barely recognises. He wonders why they seem familiar, even just that little bit. It takes a moment, but the cadet realises they are second years.

They must not have witnessed an unbonding either. Fury is truly trying to get the point across.

“Not really. The only detail we know is that they were... you know _._.. _Doing the deed_ , as it were,” Clint answers, his tone lacking the usual hint of amusement.

Steve isn't sure what to say to that, refusing to look at his own demon in fear that one of the other cadets would catch a glimpse of his guilty conscience. For once, the demon's eyes are not on Steve, but on the chained demon.

The soldiers push the demon onto his knees, head lowered with strong hands on his shoulders: keeping him down. It's hard to see the female cadet from where Steve stands, but he is sure he sees a scientist placing electrode pads onto her forehead and the top of her chest, the wires connecting to a large computer that swells out of the wall far behind her.

Her demon is situated three feet in front of her, growling low like some rabid dog. Its a disturbing sight to see. If the demon wasn't in human form, Steve knew it would be a scene of horror. But no, the fiend -regardless of its aggressive attitude- is beautiful. If human, they could have been a model.

However, they are a demon.

A seducer type, that's for certain.

That means there is nothing for them in this world, not unless they have some use to the human race.

This one just broke its contract.

As soon a demon becomes a danger, as soon as a soldier _loses control_ of their demon... No one can afford to take chances. Unless a rare specimen, what's the point in keeping an unusable creature?

They have one use.

If that use is no longer possible- there is no longer a reason for humans to allow its existence.

Steve doesn't need to agree with it. His opinion is worthless. There is nothing the cadet can do to change this way of thinking. It's a thought process embedded into their society, especially where demons are concerned.

The whirring of the computer coming to life has any muttering between cadets fading. The room is almost silent: Steve can hear the light whimpered breathing of the burned cadet and the beastly rumbling from her demon.

The brown spirals stretched across the floor turn into a bright red-like powder. A thin, crusty layer as if dust from outside had been blown in under the doors. The soldiers release their hold on the demon, slowly stepping out of the circle, taking care not to tread on any of the lines.

Steve hears Fury briefly talking to one of the scientists, before pressing a switch on the computer. For a second, nothing changes. Not until the cadet lets out a high-pitched scream. It looks like she's in pain, as if something is tearing out of her chest; if the way she clutches at it is anything to go by.

No one notices it at first (no human anyway): the white particles that clump together, connecting the cadet and her demon. The particles are almost transparent, but as the seconds pass the tiny spheres seem to gain more depth. They float between the cadet and the demon's chests, as if attaching their hearts so their energy becomes shared.

Though Steve knows its a one sided arrangement.

Humans are the only ones to gain from bonding with a demon.

The particles become thicker and vibrant, like a vine gaining stability. As the artificial light above them reflects and refracts upon the fragments, they almost appear rose coloured. Like petals catching in the wind.

Steve's eyes widen at the truly spectacular display. However, the beauty of the situation doesn't last for long. The whirring of the computer becomes louder as the demon bellows and the cadet gasps, both in torment.

It seems to go on forever, but in reality it takes less than thirty seconds for the visible bond to evolve into a colour akin to blood and for the spirals to reduce to grey dust. The demon's collar turns white with the very faintest hint of black.

What happens next is most important.

The bond particles nearest to the cadet suddenly burst, losing their colour as they dissipate into the surroundings. It's a chain reaction. The fragments rupture and unravel all the way along the bond towards the demon.

The cadet falls to her knees, breathing heavily. Except for the burns, she is otherwise unharmed: their compatibility was low. ~~Her~~ The demon is deafly silent, like a hollow tree. Empty and broken. The fiend has no time to recover. Weakened, it's barely a moment before a soldier comes and breaks its neck. A manifested knife embedded into the top of its spinal cord.

A quick snap and the demon is dead.

The fiend drops to the ground like a rag-doll: lifeless. Its body morphs into a monstrous creature, with scarred skin and ram-like horns, spine curved and fingernails comparable to talons.

Steve is pretty sure he hears someone throw up.

The first years (and the second years for that matter) had no idea what they do with the demons that soldiers unbond with. The blond had assumed they would be kept in containment, merely used to extract essence to help with research. But clearly, they have enough demons like this one to be able to afford to destroy a few here and there.

Steve always thought demons as being brutal and nefarious... albeit now, he thinks humans are like that too. Or rather, he knows humans can be just as vicious. That much is now evident.

The desire for survival, can make even the most intelligent of beings take unnecessary action.

        

Since witnessing the unbonding, the cadets are all on edge. It's as if the path has become more narrow. A pathway, with nothing on either side. If you were to trip... that's it.

You can't become a soldier. You can't have a demon.

When taking such care with each footstep, the creature pushing against you becomes more of a worry.

But, Steve is not anxious, nor concerned. He's probably the only cadet who is not filled with apprehension.

Well, he's not worried about being _unbonded_. Of course, many things make the blond fill with anxiety and unease. But not this. Because Steve knows he has ~~control~~ an unspoken agreement with his demon. Bucky will be Steve's asset in the military. With Bucky by his side, Steve will become the soldier he knows he can be.

The soldier that he _is._

The only problem is that, Steve's not quite sure what he's meant to be offering in return.

One question keeps coming up time and time again.

Why is Bucky... _Bucky_?

Why?

Why does this ~~potentially~~ deadly fiend treat Steve the way he does?

Why is this demon building a relationship with the soldier he's meant to despise?

Why is the demon so calm, when he should be wrecked with hate?

Why does Bucky do the things he does? Teases and jests... tempts and lures.

Why is Bucky this complex creature Steve is struggling to understand, even with all his desire to grasp at knowledge?

Why is Bucky, _Bucky_?

Why does Steve never want to let him go?

“Come on, you _have_ to come! The third years invited us,” Sam pleads.

“I don't know, Sam. Its not really my thing...” Steve mumbles, fork nudging his food across the ceramic plate.

A party... Definitely not his thing.

A party filled with alcohol and costumes in the dead of night in the dorms, going against almost every rule at the academy... definitely not his thing. Even if all of the other cadets are convinced it'll wipe away their troubles.

“It'll be fun! Probably the only fun thing for a while.”

“It's to celebrate Halloween, we deserve a break.” Clint joins in on persuading the blond.

“Rogers, don't leave me alone with these idiots,” Tony interjects, only to receive a sharp elbow from Clint and Rhodey. Tony complains it hurts, but laughs anyway.

Steve doesn't find parties interesting. Quite frankly, he finds them boring and unnecessary- an excuse to get drunk or get laid. Sometimes both. Then again, he has never been invited to one before. Perhaps his view is a little biased.

“Okay, fine. I'll come.” Steve gives in. The other cadets cheer at his declaration and the blond can't help but smile at them.

One night of standing in a corner can't hurt... can it?

        

“What's Halloween?”

“You don't know what Halloween is?” Steve gawks at the demon who merely frowns in reply. It's clear Bucky doesn't like not knowing things. The younger man may find that a little amusing. “I know something you don't, this is a first, ain't it?”

“ _Steve,”_ Bucky groans the cadet's name from the bed, far too erotically for Steve's liking- though that may not be entirely true.

“Okay,” Steve sighs, finishing off his last annotations on bonding, before coming to sit with the demon. “Its based on this belief that on the last day of October, the Lord of Death overpowers the Sun God and allows those who died the previous year to return to visit the living. It's thought this weakens the passage ways and demons can also temporarily enter our realm during this time.”

“So why were the other cadets discussing costumes?” Bucky shuffles his back against the wall to accommodate the younger man.

“As legends would have it, people wore masks or disguises to be unnoticed by these spirits or the demons... But now its just for fun,” Steve explains, shifting next to the demon's outstretched legs, his own folded as he faces Bucky.

“And this happens every year?”

“Without fail.”

“I've never seen these _spirits_ before. The gateways does not become easier to access-”

“Its a myth, Bucky,” Steve interrupts before Bucky can argue every impossible thing about what hes just said.

“Do you like Halloween?” Bucky asks when Steve says no more.

“Sure. I used to go trick or treat'in every year with my mother when I was a kid.” The blond shrugs.

“Trick or what?” Bucky raises a brow at the unfamiliar words. There are strange human traditions the demon is not yet accustomed to.

“Trick or treat,” Steve clarifies, “you dress up and knock on people's houses and they give you sweets.”

“What then?”

“You eat too much and get sick,” Steve laughs, though Bucky takes it too literally.

“The food is poisoned?”

“No, of course not. Well, they're not supposed to be...”

“But, to take food from humans you don't know is rather foolish, is it not?” Bucky finds it difficult to find some survival logic behind Steve's explanation. The whole idea seems preposterous and rather perplexing to the demon.

“Perhaps. I didn't really worry about that sort of thing. I was pretty sure the doctors wouldn't try to poison me.”

“Doctors?” Bucky is perceptive to everything Steve says. A slip of the tongue is all it takes to have the demon questioning the blond.

“Ah, yeah... I was sick a lot, when I was younger,” Steve admits. The only other person he has spoken to about his childhood is Sam. “I spent quite a few holidays in the hospital. So, on Halloween, the children would all go visit the other wards and get candy from the nurses and doctors. I always went around with my ma though.”

“You've mentioned your mother before. You are close?”

“She raised me. She took care of me. I owe her everything.”

“You miss her.” Its not a question.

“Everyday,” Steve sighs. The young blond wishes more than anything to see his mother, but right now, he needs to focus on getting his first year over and done with. Then, and only then, will he get the chance to see her.

Steve has an inkling that, if Bucky wasn't his demon, he might miss home an awful lot more than he already does.

“Is she like you?” Bucky asks, trying to conjure up some idea of the woman that helped to shape Steve into the person he is today.

“I have a picture, hang on...” Steve hops off the bed to rummage through a small box at the bottom of his wardrobe. When Steve finally finds the photograph, he quickly comes to sit beside the demon, handing over the image as their shoulders knock together.

Bucky takes the picture, looking at the woman with pale skin and blonde hair, with blue eyes just as wide and filled with wonder like Steve's. She's smiling in the photograph, her hair reflecting the golden sunlight above her and the little blond boy in her arms. Bucky thinks they share the same smile: for both radiate kindness.

“This is you with her?” Bucky can't help but notice the nasal cannula that trails to wrap behind the infant's ears.

“Yes. I was almost two years old here.” Steve watches the demon observe the photograph. It's difficult to read the demon's expression, but Steve tries to understand it anyway.

“You do seem alike. But...” Bucky pauses, giving the photograph back to Steve.

“But?” Steve presses, craning his neck to look up the demon beside him.

“You are far more _divine, my little warrior_.”

Steve is sure his heart aches a little at Bucky's words. Not a painful ache, but one of longing. An ache of contentment and a certain fondness.

Its only a tiny bit of Steve -but it is significant amount nonetheless- just a small part inside him. ..

Perhaps a mere cell in his heart that holds this feeling... this _urge._

This _attraction._

A feeling he has for the demon which remains cloaked in fascination and the eagerness for knowledge.

What Steve is unsure of, is whether he should follow what his heart yearns for. Even if its only a tiny fragment that has this craving.

However, the fragment is like an infection: spreading its code as a virus does. Scattering around Steve's body, as the _feeling_ becomes more intense.

Its slowly becoming a bigger part of Steve.

        

Steve may or may not have forgot to figure out a costume.

Its Halloween, which just so happens to be on a Monday and in all honesty, the blond isn't too excited. But thats not to say he doesn't want to be the only one not dressed up.

Where is he even meant to get a costume from anyway?

Regardless, its too late.

The party is supposed to start at midnight to ensure no one else at the academy finds out. By no one, Steve is pretty sure they mean Fury. The third year who Steve still doesn't know the name of (though he swears its wither Wayne or Winslow) told them that it is tradition for the cadets to gather on Halloween.

Steve had ignored the rest of that conversation which had quickly trailed into talk of alcohol and women. More specifically getting drunk and having sex. Or at least thats what Clint relayed to the blond.

Steve is tempted not to go at all. There's no doubt he enjoys spending time with his team mates, but he prefers quieter settings. Although he has already promised to go, is it too late to back out?

Bucky can sense the younger man's anxiety. It radiates off him in sharp waves, making a distinct smell in the air. The demon watches the cadet pace back and forth across the room, like an animal wondering across the length of its cage again and again.

Eventually the blond lets out a long sigh, shoulders relaxing.

There is no need for him to get worked up over something so unimportant. He is getting tugged down by tiny details, when he should be looking forward to having a good time.

Steve almost laughs at the thought.

If anything, he might make it back to his room in one piece.

That's the plan anyway.

Steve pulls out a white long-sleeved t-shirt to go under a blue checked collared top. That and the only pair of jeans (which are black) he owns should work to make him look somewhat decent. If anything, he could always say he's dressed as an actor. Though to name one is not Steve's forte.

When Steve comes out of the bathroom, Bucky lets out a low whistle.

“What was that for?” Steve giggles, rolling his eyes playfully at the demon.

“I haven't seen you out of uniform before.” Is all Bucky says in return. Steve can feel the demon staring up and down his body.

“I don't think that's entirely true,” Steve smirks, shocking himself with how he flirts with the demon so easily. The younger man can hear Bucky chuckle softly, though when Steve looks over to the demon by the bed, all he can see is that devilish smile.

“How long are we going to be?”

“ _I_ am going to be gone for a couple hours,” the blond replies, fastening the buttons on his shirt. Before Bucky can even ask why he can't come along, Steve simply states two words: “No demons.”

“You're leaving me here?”

“Yes. Its either that or the demon-dorms.” Steve would rather not go through that hassle.

“But you will be coming back _here?”_

“Well I don't plan to get drunk and pass out on the floor.”

“But you will be coming back to your room?” It's as if Bucky is determined to know whether Steve will come back to him or not. In all honesty, Steve would find it strange going to sleep anywhere where his demon's arms aren't wrapped around him.

It's a thought Steve ignores.

“Where else would I go?”

“Two hours...” Bucky says after a moment, seeming satisfied with Steve's answer.

“Not much longer than that. As soon as the others have a few drinks, they won't notice I'm gone.”

Bucky still doesn't look too happy with the whole situation. His expression makes Steve want to stay, but he knows he shouldn't. It's not as if he'll be long.

“I'm going to go see if Sam's ready then,” Steve declares, tying up his boots. “Stay here, okay?”

“Okay,” Bucky watches the younger man head towards the door. When Steve's hand reaches the handle, he turns to lock eyes with the demon.

“Bucky,” Steve calls the demon's name soothingly, trying to convey every ounce of meaning into his tone, “I'll be back soon.”

“Can't stay away from me, huh?” Bucky grins, his eyes sparking with that primal urge.

“Tsk. Be good,” Steve tells him half-heartedly, though both he and Bucky know Steve is being serious.

“Ain't I always?”

        

The Halloween celebration is being held on the third year floor where the older cadet's had decorated the rather large lounge. Fake cobwebs and plastic pumpkins clearly bought off the internet decorates the room, along with bat lights and skeletons which hang from the ceiling.

There's music playing far too loudly, with beings dancing around the room. Some with drinks in hand, while the others have very different things in their grasp- like someone else's ass.

Steve is glad to see his team mates hadn't dressed up (except for Clint, who is wearing...well, Steve isn't sure _what_ ). Steve picks out the other costume-less first years: who the cadet had found out had been living in a separate, single floor dorm close by.

Excluding the _Avengers,_ there is now only nine other first years.

The academy is _brutal._

Steve wonders why the academy is being so picky with its students. In the past there would have been twice as many cadets as there are now. But, then Steve remembers the burnt buildings on his first day and thinks ' _you can't be too careful, not when demons are involved'._

There's an invisible barricade separating the _Avengers_ and the others. Wanda had told Steve there was talk of the other first years being put into one single team, rather than as the two smaller ones. It would make sense, except, why keep the _Avengers_ separate from the rest? Why bother as to go so far as to have different buildings? Steve refrains from questioning further.

Fury must know what he's doing. Even if the old soldier is terrifying, Steve can't help but respect him.

“You want a drink?” Sam almost shouts into Steve's ear. The blond nods his head and follows closely behind Sam towards a table lined up with plastic cups and beer bottles. Steve gently taps his friend's shoulder.

“Never mind.” He mouths, shaking his head slightly. Sam gives a disapproving look but doesn't try to persuade the blond otherwise. As Sam grabs himself a beer, Steve surveys the room. His heart is beating in tune with the music- erratic and pounding hard.

Steve hears Sam say something, though he doesn't catch quiet what, but he's got a smile on his face so Steve can only assume its something good.

Its not long until Sam is (trying) to converse with some of the other cadets, drawing in a small crowd around him. Steve carefully pushes himself out of the huddle. Sam gives Steve an apologetic smile, but the blond waves him off, motioning that he's going to stand by the wall.

Its fine.

Except. Its not.

It's loud and hot and filled with people. It's been over an hour and Steve knows it is pointless for him to have come. The bright lights in the otherwise darkened room make the blond feel dizzy. Steve can sense the sweat on his palms and he has to close his eyes to calm himself.

Deep breath in...

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Let it slowly out...

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Take another breath...

_Thump. Thump._

Let it out...

_Thump...Thump._

As Steve goes through the motions of calming himself, he fails to notice Tony coming towards him. A gentle nudge on his arm has the cadet looking up at his friend. Tony holds out a bottle of cool water. Steve gratefully takes it, opening the lid and draining half in one go. The blond mouths a quiet _'thank you',_ earning him a smile in reply.

“Looked like you needed it,” Tony says, rather loudly in Steve's ear. The taller cadet's presence is comforting- Tony doesn't question why he found Steve against the wall all alone. Its as if they each have their own secrets neither one needs to share with the other. Though at the same time knowing the offer to tell is still there. And yet there is no pressure to do so.

Its refreshing as well as reassuring.

The pair stick together like glue for over an hour: getting immersed in attempts at conversation, only to end up laughing when words get lost within the music. They even manage to find some edible snacks, which they take away from the main crowd to greedily eat on the sofa. There may or may not have been a small food fight and odd looks from some of the older cadets.

Both tired and too full for their own good, they both agree to go back to the dorms to sleep off the pounding in their ears. It's almost three in the morning and Steve is surprised he hasn't actually fallen asleep yet.

When the cadets reach the relative quiet of their dorm floor, they exchange good-nights and retire to their own rooms. Steve barely has the door closing behind him before the demon is upon him.


	10. Your Shadows Hold Many Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Nine:  
> **The first and second years witnessed an unbonding of one of the first years.  
> **Steve admitted to Bucky about being in the hospital a lot as an infant, and showed him a picture of his mother.  
> **Halloween party, Tony and Steve hung out, and Steve arrived back late to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

Steve can barely gasp the demon's name, for Bucky's lips press upon his own. He doesn't even register the slight pain of his back hitting the door, just Bucky's heated body pushing against his smaller form.

A few seconds and then Bucky has one metallic hand wrapped around Steve's wrists, just above where the blond's head rests. His other, much warmer fingers, gently lift the younger man's chin up, allowing their kiss to deepen. Steve can feel Bucky's tongue and the mix of their own hot breaths and in that moment, it is too much. Steve's head is pounding with the rhythm of every one of his deafening heart beats.

He loves every second of it.

One of Bucky's thighs quickly comes between Steve's legs, before the blond's knees give way with the sheer intensity of their kiss. Steve lets a small moan escape into the demon's mouth, which Bucky gladly swallows. The blond knows his lips will be wet and red by the time one of them can bear to pull away.

A small spark of electricity snakes down Steve's spine, eliciting a deeper moan that has the demon growling lowly with possessiveness. Steve can't help but moan again at Bucky's response.

The demon releases his hold on Steve's wrists, and the younger man immediately wraps his arms around Bucky's broad shoulders. Bucky quickly grabs the back of Steve's thighs, easily lifting the blond so he could fold his legs around Bucky's waist. Without so much as breaking their kiss, Steve seems to understand; his legs circle Bucky as if he's a lifeline.

Steve's fingernails dig in into the warm skin of Bucky's back as the demon carries him towards the bed. The blond is too caught up in the moment to fully comprehend the situation: his mind is numb, his body is on automatic, a single name crossing his thoughts again and again.

_Bucky._

The demon carefully lets Steve fall back onto the mattress, his head hitting the pillow as Bucky disentangles himself from Steve's embrace. The younger man takes the opportunity to catch his breath in deep gasps. His cheeks are flushed, his body heated as his hands reach out to Bucky for just a second, before falling back down against the pillow.

The blond watches the demon untying his laces, removing the cadet's boots to throw them across the room. In any other circumstance, Steve would have glared at the demon and picked them up. But... Steve doesn't move at all. Not until the demon is crawling up between his thighs to kiss the blond some more.

Steve holds Bucky's face between the warmth of his palms, his fingertips engrossed in dark strands of hair, which dangle and tickle at Steve's pale skin. Bucky swiftly undoes the buttons of Steve's shirt, so that his hands can dip underneath the layers of fabric to wonder the smooth expanse of _Steve._

Bucky pulls from their kiss once more and Steve whines at the loss of the demon's taste. Bucky loves the amorous expression on the younger man, it calls to him as a primal urge. If the demon was to look closely enough, he would find his reflection in those lustful eyes.

Bucky gently tugs at the ends of both shirts, and Steve almost instantly leans up as the demon pulls them up and over the cadet's body, letting the clothing drop to the floor in a rumpled mess.

He kisses Steve again- slow and languid, but filled with just as much passion as before. Their lips move in perfect synchrony as their hands roam one another. Bucky shadows over Steve, drenching the blond in darkness. While one hand presses against the wall to steady himself, his other palm rubs across the blond's body, feeling every slight dip between his ribs and over the pink nubs of Steve's chest.

The motion is soothing and yet so erotic it has the younger man moaning the demon's name. Steve is like velvet or silk under his fingers and the demon only craves more of _him_.

Of _Steve._

Bucky can smell the hint of spice upon the blond's flesh, and knows Steve is as lost in the touch as Bucky is. The demon quickly undoes Steve's jeans, breaking their kiss to tap the younger man twice on his thigh as a silent signal. On instinct, Steve arches his back to raise his hips as Bucky slips the rough fabric from his legs, discarding it amongst the other inconvenient clothing.

All that separates them now is two pairs of thin underwear. Steve's chest is pink and the blond is breathing heavily, staring up at the demon with glistening red lips and eyes that innocently beg.

But, Bucky can also see the way his fingers tremble and the way he chews at his bottom lip: hidden anxiety crawling under the surface of Steve's skin. The demon meets Steve's gaze and -without averting his eyes- places a tender kiss upon Steve's chest. Right in the centre where Bucky can feel the blond's heart beating firmly under his lips.

Steve lets out a deep sigh as Bucky kisses the same spot over and over again. The demon's lips feel good and so warm even with his own body blushing with heat.

After Bucky is satisfied, he moves to kiss along Steve's ribs, his collarbone, his hip, all the way back up to the cadet's throat... Each time Bucky is a little more forceful with each press of his mouth against tempting skin, indulging himself in the sweet taste. Biting and licking only to smooth over the marred skin with a delicate kiss.

Steve knows his chest and abdomen will be marked red by time morning comes. Though that doesn't stop him from digging and cradling his fingers in Bucky's hair.

“ _Bucky...”_

“Mm?” The demon isn't sure whether Steve is actually calling his name or merely moaning it, but he acknowledges it nonetheless. When Steve merely makes a small humming noise in response, the demon can't help but smile at the blond.

Bucky leans up to give a brief, light kiss upon Steve's lips. An innocent peck- the kind you would expect when greeting or saying goodbye to someone dear to you.

Its tender.

Full of secrets and locked up desires.

Steve can only look up at Bucky. Even though the room is dark, the younger man can clearly depict the demon's features, even where strands of hair fall to shadow his eyes.

Steve is content... if slightly aroused as well...

But content.

If it was any other day, Steve may have protested the demon taking the blond innocently into his arms to rest as they always do. But Bucky radiates this calmness that has the younger man relaxing even more into his touch.

The blond is in total bliss, yet his body seeks sleep without the need for satisfaction of hesitant desires. Bucky is warm against his bare skin in the otherwise cool room that pricks at his lithe form. No one can blame him for drifting asleep as the demon caresses his back and strokes his hair.

Being a first year... its fucking tough.

Maybe more of a challenge than Steve realises.

Full of anxieties Steve never considered.

But Bucky... he soothes those anxieties. Chases away his worries like leaves caught in the wind.

Together, they can achieve so much, more than either of them know. Even with the many secrets that practically submerge them... There is this certain light.

An end goal.

A way forward.

A feeling that drives them.

Even if neither of them have fully comprehended it yet.

        

“Fuck! _Bucky!_ ” Steve squeals, staring at the dishevelled cadet looking back at him in the bathroom mirror.

“Something wrong?” Bucky smirks from the doorway, watching the cadet's reflection.

He's not angry.

To be angry would be to act as if he hadn't wanted Bucky to touch him... to kiss him.

He had wanted Bucky to do those things, wants it still (though that he might take to his grave) and yet his mind hadn't seemed to fully understand what Bucky's mouth against his skin means.

Steve should have learnt that lesson by now.

And yet, here he is.

Not one purple mark -that he now has to cover up- but _five_.

When Steve turns to face Bucky, he had the intention of glaring. Yet all he can muster up is a roll of the eyes and a little nudge of his elbow as he passes the demon. Bucky is just as amused and cocky as ever: proud and teasing.

“I'm glad you decided to follow my suggestion.” Bucky comes slowly closer, as if stalking the blond like a leopard would.

“Your suggestion, huh? What was that?” Steve muses, shifting through draws to find their clean uniforms.

“To sleep in something less appropriate.”

It takes a second for Steve to realise he's still only wearing his underwear.

“Yeah, well. Don't get too excited,” the cadet mocks.

“I think it's a bit late for that, doll.”

Steve knows that mischievous glint is in the demon's eyes, complimenting that brash grin.

“Get changed.” Steve throws the demon's uniform towards him, who catches it without so much as blinking.

Within a few minutes, Steve and Bucky are out the door and waiting outside the dorms for everyone else to show. The sun is just barely peeking over the academy's buildings and Steve isn't surprised when he sees his team mates slowly trudging towards them.

Although Steve is tired -even though he had slept like a kitten in Bucky's arms- he wonders why Tony looks like he had walked through a haunted forest. Especially when Steve should have ended up asleep later than the other cadet.

But his thoughts do not waver on Tony's bed head and baggy eyes. For Clint appears far worse with white paint still on his face and black glitter all over his boots.

“What happened to you?” Steve laughs. The rest of his team mates are just as amused with Clint's appearance. Their demons stand close, but seemingly unimpressed by mortal humour.

“I totally got laid,” Clint brags, his voice hoarse.

“You totally did not,” Wanda scoffs.

“Well, I _almost_ got laid,” the cadet counters.

“I don't think so. That fourth year looked like she wanted to slap you.” Rhodey smirks, thinking back to the scene.

“Kinky.” Clint grins, which earns him a more than a light hit over the head from Bruce.

“Come on, guys. Lets get going,” Sam interrupts the group, motioning towards the track. After a few moments of laughter, they all head out for their running session.

Luckily, no one mentions anything about them running slower, nor does Fury seem to notice their lack of sleep. Steve is convinced the old soldier knows about the Halloween tradition, but pretends otherwise. There's no way he actually couldn't know of the blaring music and the colourful lights, and more importantly, the hungover cadets the next day year after year.

But by no means does Steve find him any less terrifying.

At the end of their run, Fury announces that they will be having lectures starting in a couple weeks. At least two lectures a month from basic demon anatomy to more complex demon behaviours. While most of the cadets grumble at this news, Steve is excited.

Physical strength, stamina, agility...Steve needs to work on.

But _lectures._

_Knowledge._

This is where Steve's strength lies.

The only issue is that Steve needs to draw a line between what he knows, and what the academy thinks he knows. To separate fact from fiction. No one can know the things Bucky has told him, not yet. Perhaps not ever.

Not while they share this extraordinary bond.

        

Steve taps away at the keyboard, searching through old pre-military demon specifications. It's important that Steve doesn't forget what he has learned. A desire to prove himself by being top of the class eats away at Steve's mind. But it also gives him the motivation to do just that.

The Knowledge Centre is cold and Steve has to tug his grey hoodie closer around him. Bucky stands right behind him and Steve can feel the warm waves from the demon caressing his back.

There are a few other cadets at computers, though less than half have their demons with them. Steve doesn't think demons are that much of a problem to have around, especially when they are the creature you are studying.

When your bond with some otherworldly fiend makes you stronger. To lock them away when inconvenient baffles the cadet. Of course, he understands the reasoning behind it.

They are deadly.

They have done monstrous things.

They are not beings to make friends with.

Except that... Steve doesn't really feel that way.

Intelligent and perhaps misunderstood.

There has to be more to demons than the evil front everyone sees.

“Hey.”

Steve glances up to find Sam wandering over, his own demon pattering behind him. The demon truly looks like a giant red bird -morphed with features of a human- when in its larger form.

“Hey, Sam.”

“I thought I would join you today.”

“I was just preparing for the lectures,” Steve explains, subconscious pulling his jumper closer around him; closer around the not so innocent blemishes that Bucky had impermanently marked him with.

“I thought you would be,” Sam chuckles, sitting at the next computer adjacent to the blond.

“You know me too well,” Steve agrees, fingers drumming away at slightly dusty, sleek buttons.

Sam stares at Bucky for a long moment, but the demon does not turn his focus away from Steve. After several seconds, the cadet switches his attention back to the young blond.

“Tell me your secret,” Sam blurts out.

“Huh?” Steve freezes at his friend's unexpected words.

“About your demon,” Sam clarifies, his voice a portrayal of curiosity.

“I don't...Uh, what?” Steve stutters, unsure what he is even supposed to say. The blond can feel his cheeks becoming tainted with a pink blush.

Does Sam suspect something between them?

Have they done anything to suggest so?

“You know. He just stands there silently,” Sam muses, brows furrowed in thought. “Everyone else's demons cause mayhem, especially at first. But yours...”

“Ah. Well, I guess I just got lucky.” Steve shrugs, though its not something he believes to be true.

“Yeah. I guess...” Sam seems deep in thought, trying to make sense of his friend's very unusual fiend. “I wonder _why_ though.”

Honestly, Steve wants to know _'why'_ himself.

“Why don't you ask him?” Steve half heartedly jokes. Sam laughs and shakes his head as if that was the most ridiculous thing.

“As if anyone would ever get a reply.”

“Why do you say that?” The blond asks softly, a little confused but trying to appear nonchalant about the whole situation. But as Sam keeps talking, Steve becomes more apprehensive. The blonds feels like something is gnawing at his stomach, filling his chest with unease.

“It's not as if they speak proper English. All mine does is make screeching noises,” Sam replies matter of factly. The way he said it makes it seem common knowledge. But this is news to Steve.

“Your demon doesn't talk?” The blond asks, perplexed. His own confusion fluttering between his ribs, though with Sam right next to him he ignores it.

“No. Nothing that I can understand anyway.” Sam shrugs. After a moment he glances at the quiet blond. “Why? Does yours talk?”

“No... Of course not,” Steve lies. The blond can feel his heart rate increasing inside his chest, as if preparing to run. Of course, Steve knows he can trust Sam. But for some reason, when it comes to Bucky, he can't quite bring himself to say the things he should.

“Then why did you ask if mine does?”

“Well, it is a giant bird. I thought it might have parrot characteristics,” Steve awkwardly jokes in his best attempt to lighten the situation.

He doesn't want to talk about everything he doesn't know about Bucky.

“Ha! Hilarious, Steve.” Sam rolls his eyes, though his lips display an amused smile.

The blond can't help but glance at Bucky out of the corner of his eye while Sam attends to his computer.

They have never been taught about demons talking- or lack of it. Steve had just assumed everyone else's demons spoke English as Bucky does. Or at least knew bits here and there.

Steve hasn't come across anything in his father's journal to suggest otherwise. Maybe Steve is more naïve than he thought.

Steve knows he will have to nag Bucky about it later until the demon indulges him in some details. Even if he might have to be a little persuasive.

The blond can barely believe his own mind for coming up with such suggestions. Even if in reality they are much more innocent than anyone could imagine.

It's a matter of principle that disturbs Steve.

He never thought he would try and pry information from a demon.

But Bucky is a beacon he cannot ignore.

“So... You and Tony get along pretty good,” Sam says calmly, watching Steve from the corner of his eye. The comment would have surprised Steve if he hadn't been expecting it. In many ways, Sam is predictable.

“Of course. We are team mates after all.”

“Sure sure. But, at the party the other day, you seemed... _close_.” Sam emphasises the last word, giving it new meaning. Though Steve decides to pretend indifference to Sam's hints.

“I guess. Tony often takes me up to the labs to look at demon tech.”

“I seriously hope thats not a euphemism,” Sam dead-pans, which earns a horrified look from his friend.

“No! No no no,” Steve insists, caught off guard and more than embarrassed.

“I was kidding.” Sam chuckles, lightly elbowing the blond in his side.

“Oh. Right,” the blond mumbles, perhaps a little too awkwardly.

“You like him?”

“Yeah, I like him.”

Of course Steve likes Tony. Sure, he had been an arrogant and ignorant rich boy when they first met, but now... Steve vows to protect every one of his team mates.

“Like _like_ him?” Sam raises a questioning eyebrow.

“He's my friend, Sam,” Steve sighs, scrolling through online journals.

“Doesn't mean you wouldn't want to be more.”

“I don't see him in that way.”

“You know its cool if you do?” Sam's voice is gentle, comforting.

They haven't exactly had this talk before: about either of their sexualities. Romantic relationships aren't something they're looking for, and neither of them go looking for sex. They're hard working individuals who only have the goal of completing the military course _alive_ in mind.

That's not to say that they haven't taken an interest in individuals before. Though for Sam that stands more true. Steve has met the couple of girlfriends Sam had been with during their Pre-military Demon Course.

Steve?

No. He has never actually dated anyone. The blond never had the intention to. Of course, he sees how others have appeal. Become attracted to others by acknowledging their beauty and their personalities. But... it had never really gone further than that.

There was no one Steve had met and had felt the need, the _desire_ to want to be with that person. Not in any way that wasn't pure friendship.

Except...

There's the possibility a certain someone has changed that.

But that someone is not Tony.

“Yes. But I don't,” Steve answers simply.

Steve can feel Bucky's eyes on him, prickling at his spine, and has to resist the urge to meet the demon's gaze.

“I saw you both leave together,” the cadet says after a moment, watching Steve for any sign of a reaction.

“To our own separate rooms, Sam,” Steve clarifies, arms folding in mock annoyance.

“Alright. If you say so,” Sam teases, smirking far too much for the blond's liking.

“ _Sam,”_ Steve groans, leaning back in the chair.

“I know I know. Its just, you're like a brother to me.”

If Steve was to sum up Sam's personality in one sentence, it would be the typical, teasing overprotective older brother. It's not something Steve dislikes about his closest friend. But, like with any sibling, it can become tiresome.

“You worry. We've had this conversation before,” Steve exhales, only a little bit aggravated. He knows Sam means well, just as he always does.

“But about someone else.”

“Is there anyone _you_ like?” Steve asks, turning the tables on his friend. The blond gets a disapproving look in response. But Sam's eyes have that spark that gives him away.

“We're not here to find the love of our lives.”

“You like Wanda, don't ya?” The blond teases. He knows Sam's _preferences_ too well. Someone who can hold their own in any situation. It's something Sam strives for and admires in others.

“She's bad-ass. However, my statement still stands.” There's only a hint of seriousness to his tone.

“Lets just get the work done.” The blond rolls his eyes, shaking his head as if that could end the conversation.

It's a long while before Sam begins to yawn and Steve's stomach growls with hunger. The canteen will be serving food soon and the blond can no longer concentrate on reading. The cadets agree to head over to the hall to eat and Sam has to quickly hurry to save all of his documents.

Steve stands, rolling his shoulders to help ease the tightness of his muscles. Bucky is far too close to be appropriate, but Sam hasn't noticed. So if Steve brushes his hand against the demon's: its an action kept between him and Bucky only.

The blond finds the demon's gaze, catching it in a seemingly endless moment, before Steve has to tear his eyes away.

He can't afford to give Sam any more ideas.

Sam turns the screen black, stretching his own arms and letting an out an exaggerated yawn. Steve laughs at that and starts to head for the exit, Bucky merely a few steps behind.

But as Bucky passes the other demon...

Sam's demon _flinches._

Its whole body recoils and falters.

Steve notices it out the corner of his eye and instantly stops, turning his head towards Sam who isutterly oblivious to his demon's strange behaviour _._

There had been no growling or any sign of a threat, no tactical movements. But something had obviously happened to cause such an unusual reaction. Something no human can perceive.

Demons don't just _flinch._

They don't know _fear._

To see such behaviour is unheard of.

Such demon behaviour caused by another demon at the academy is even more peculiar.

Sam reaches his own demon, unaware as he slips his jacket on.

The questions the blond has for Bucky are growing by the day.

Steve watches the two demons closely. Neither demon reacts again and it's as if the situation had dispersed immediately, as if it had never even occurred.

Bucky is still close enough so that he can feel the sparking warmth radiate from his demon, whose gaze remains unwavering on Steve.

In that moment, the blond feels as if he's the one being studied.

        

Steve decides not to mention it to Sam.

Perhaps he is _mistaken_...

Though Steve knows he's not.

The cadet keeps a cautious and attentive gaze on Bucky throughout the rest of the day. Right up until the moment they're back in Steve's room, where the blond's reserved stare turns into an irritated scowl. Steve slips off his jacket, placing it on the desk as he considers what to say.

_Where the hell is he even supposed to start?_

The _flinching,_ or the fact that demons aren't suppose to _talk?_

Steve lets out a frustrated groan when -shirt already on the floor as if trying to entice the cadet- Bucky smiles in that teasing way. It never fails to ignite some fiery spark inside Steve; he would much rather overlook the feeling of _l_ ~~ _ust_~~ _warmth_ that comes with it.

“Bucky.” Steve's voice is unwavering; demanding as the demon meets his gaze.

“Yes?” The demon stands tall and Steve straightens his posture, though it makes little difference.

“Bucky I-” The blond isn't quite sure what he's even trying to say.

“Yes?” Bucky presses, stepping closer to the younger man. They're close enough that Steve can feel the demon's warmth, and Bucky can sense Steve's hesitance.

“You... talk...” Steve finally says, not quite able to look Bucky in the eye, but bold enough to stare at the taunt muscles of his chest.

“Would you rather I make other noises?” The demon teases, shifting that little bit closer.

“ _Bucky.”_ Steve folds his arms, as if it would show Bucky how serious he is. But the demon knows already, just as he knows Steve's uncertainty.

“Yes. I speak English,” Bucky answers. His tone flat, emotionless and Steve can feel Bucky's hard stare. But when Steve risks a glance at the demon's eyes, the familiar spark there ensures the blond that there is no harshness to his words.

“How?” Steve asks. There are surely no schools to teach demons language. But, then again, the Netherworld is a place unexplored and for all they know... Well, maybe an education system is a bit far-fetched.

“I learnt it.” The way Bucky says it makes it sound like he taught it himself.

“When?”

“Irrelevant,” Bucky replies instantly, hes knows something else is pressing against the cadet's mind. “Ask what you really want to know.”

“Why do other demons not know it?”

“Think about it. You know that answer already.”

“You are older, more intelligent, more powerful...” Steve murmurs, as if these three simple things could explain everything. In a way they do- the demons used for military purposes are young and inexperienced. Otherwise they wouldn't have been so easily caught.

And yet, the puzzle is not quite complete.

“Yes. So what is it you want to know?” Bucky encourages, voice gentle and soothing. Steve looks up to find that smirk he has come to anticipate. It's as if he is being teased, but Bucky's intentions always have this hidden tenderness to them that has Steve feeling weak.

“Why did Sam's demon... react like that to you?” Steve chose his words carefully, but it still causes Bucky's body to stiffen.

“You want to know that?”

“I do.” Their gazes meet and Steve does not look away. Bucky seems deep in thought, contemplating. But those blue eyes amongst that blond hair has the demon sighing softly.

“Demons do not tend to like their auras mixing with other demons.” Bucky begins.

“Okay...” Steve isn't quite sure where Bucky is going with this, but he allows the demon continue nonetheless.

“Our auras overlapped. It did not like it.”

“But surely your auras have touched before?” Steve reasons.

“Sometimes emotions...or _intent,_ can become entangled into our auras,” Bucky explains, his voice low but clear.

Bucky is no longer looking directly at Steve, instead to the side as if he is... not _embarrassed,_ but certainly aware of what he is revealing.

“And what was your intent?”

“I was... irritated.” Its not a confession. Nor a declaration. Just a statement.

“If you are annoyed about something, you can tell me...” Steve's hand comes to rest on Bucky's arm. A small touch that has the demon gazing back down at the blond.

Steve doesn't know exactly what it is he sees in those eyes.

But its deep and primal and full of something akin to _possessiveness_.

Steve should have been frightened. But his heart is calm, and his body tingles with a gentle heat. The blond can all but keeping staring as Bucky steps that little bit closer. Their chests are almost touching and Steve can finally feel the demon's breath caressing his cheeks.

“Your conversation with the other human,” Bucky says, not quite a whisper... but quiet enough that his words are only for Steve despite the emptiness of the room.

The younger man is surprised by Bucky's words: confused and unsure of their meaning. Steve searches his mind for anything he may have said to upset the demon.

“You mean Sam?” Steve's hand drops to his side and he instantly regrets the lost of heat under his palm.

“He spoke to you about the other male.”

Steve is still trying to process Bucky's words, attempting to read between the lines to grasp at something the blond isn't sure is even there. Steve's eyes widen when some of the pieces seem to click into place.

“Bucky... are you... _jealous?”_


	11. I Do Not Fear Even Your Darkest Of Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Ten:  
> **Bucky got a lil 'possessive' when Steve came back from the Halloween party ;)  
> **Cadets got told that they will be having lectures.  
> **Sam's demon flinched when Bucky passed it in the Knowledge Centre.  
> **Bucky admitted that it is because their auras overlapped, and the demon didn't like Bucky's irritation, which he had sensed through Bucky's aura.  
> **Steve asked Bucky if he is jealous...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

“The other night... I could smell his scent on you.” Bucky is merely stating facts, but Steve knows his words hold something else within them.

An explanation.

A hint at concealed passion.

“Is that why you...” _marked me._

Bucky is silent and Steve's breath is caught in his throat, the last words left unsaid.

Steve has no clue as to what he should say. What is it that Bucky needs to hear from him to assure the demon... to make sure Bucky understands?

A few months ago Steve would have stunned himself by thinking of trying to apologise to a _demon_.

But for a moment... even if just for a moment... Steve forgets that Bucky is not human.

“You don't need to be... _jealous_...” Steve whispers, slender fingers timidly gracing up Bucky's chest, only to firmly plant themselves atop the demon's broad shoulders.

Steve doesn't have to say anything, for words are not needed.

All of the layers of sentiment, curiosity and attraction, Bucky can sense through their bond.

_I'm sorry._

_You don't need to worry._

_It could only be you._

Even the things that lay far in Steve's core... they do not need to be uncovered and spoken aloud. For Bucky hears it as loud as the sound of a wolf howling at the moon upon a frozen lake.

_It could only ever be you._

Steve can hear a low rumble of a growl radiate from Bucky's chest, echoing in the blond's ear as Bucky's arms wrap around his waist. The motion pulls the cadet closer and Steve sighs into the demon's firm embrace.

“Close your eyes.” It's a command with no bite to it, and Steve follows it without a second thought.

In an instant, Steve can feel a cool breeze caressing his arms. The sound of a hollow wind resonates in the air, it's a deep vibration and Steve has to resist opening his eyes to peek at its source. It's not a moment later that something soft presses against his back, wrapping around his shoulders. It feels light and silky upon Steve's arms, but it has a certain heaviness to it, as if it is filling the space around them in a powerful hold.

“You can open them now,” Bucky whispers into the blond's soft hair, breathing in the scent of dust from the pathways and smoke from the kitchens entangled in the golden strands.

But the scent Bucky focuses on is the delightful, distinct smell of _Steve_. It has a certain, almost soothing effect on the demon that Bucky doesn't quite realise, though craves nonetheless.

Steve opens his eyes, slowly, as the darkness of the room greets him. Or rather, the darkness around the younger man. Black, glossy feathers permeate his view. It's all he can see and Steve is mesmerised by the beauty of each shining feather, like crystallisedtourmaline.

“I almost forgot how beautiful they are,” Steve mutters, his own eyes reflecting the details of each and every hair that make up the demon's wings.

“Hmm?”

“Your wings,” Steve murmurs a little louder, the side of his head resting against Bucky's chest as he observes the feathers. The blond can hear the very faint _thud thud_ of a heart beating.

“You like them?” Bucky asks, wings seemingly moving in time with each inhale and exhale.

“Yeah... Bucky?”

“You can touch them,” The demon answers, as if he knows the desires of the wonder in the cadet's eyes.

Steve carefully removes his hand from Bucky's metallic shoulder, stretching out his palm to gently immerse his fingers into the raven-like feathers. Bucky's wings are warm to touch and surprisingly coarse. But as Steve's fingers seep deeper into the patch of feathers, they become more like velvet. Silky, with a certain solidity to them- as if containing tremendous energy.

“Can you feel it?” Steve asks, hand still submerged in the demon's feathers, while the other arm slips to relax around the demon's neck.

“Yes.”

“Can you fly with them?”

Bucky's wings are so big, so strong, that the blond can't see how they wouldn't be able to lift the demon into the air. Steve can almost imagine the demon propelling himself across the mountain tops with such ease akin to a falcon.

“There is no other use for them.”

“You can't use them as a shield?” Steve questions in fascination. The feel of the wings around him and the gentle nuzzling along his hairline, has the blond feeling completely consumed by the demon.

“Not against mortal weapons,” Bucky answers simply, his voice slightly muffled by Steve's hair.

It's a while before the cadet says anything else. For just a few moments, they both forget about the day's worries; of the people around them and the problems they have to face.

“I can't believe you were jealous, Bucky.” Steve has to stifle a small giggle. It seems almost absurd that Bucky would ever be envious. But Bucky had been, and Steve isn't quite sure what to make of that knowledge.

“Mm,” Bucky groans in reply, but its playful and Steve cant help but smile as the demon's arms wrap that little bit tighter around him.

“You do know nothing happened, right?” The blond asks quietly, though the demon can hear his words as easily as he can hear each hushed breath that escapes past the cadet's lips.

“I know,” Bucky grumbles, the feel of Steve's hand immersed between his feathers much more gratifying than he will ever admit.

“Nothing ever will...” It slips out before the cadet can analyse what it means. But, its the truth and Steve won't take it back.

In all honesty, the blond can't picture doing the embarrassing things he does with Bucky... with any other being. It just doesn't seem _right._ Not like when he's with the demon. And although they hadn't gone all the way ~~yet~~ Steve doesn't get the rush of adrenaline, or the warm flush in his cheeks, when ever he's contemplated having sex with anyone else.

Though, to be more accurate... Steve hasn't ever considered it with another.

Bucky is the only one to ever turn Steve's body, mind and _heart_ into complete agony with new emotions and the confusion that inevitably comes with it.

“How can you be sure?” Bucky questions, tone full of curiosity rather than distress. Steve removes his fingers from Bucky's wings to wrap them around the demon's neck. The blond arches his head up to meet the demon's expecting gaze.

“Because I know...” _That no one can compare to you._

Steve leans just that little bit further to place a firm and yet hesitant kiss upon Bucky's cheek. The action has the demon chasing after his lips, and the blond lets himself be captured, if only for a sweet moment.

After a quick brush of lips, Bucky tenderly rests his forehead against the blond's. Their eyes are closed, merely taking in the other's presence in what should have been an awkward gesture. However, it has a more comforting effect, as if grounding them together as their bond hums with tranquillity.

Steve knows he shouldn't feel this way.

Except... how can he not?

He can keep burying his feelings time and time again. But every now and then, they bubble to the surface and Steve can no longer deny their presence. The cadet can make excuses. Pretend there are many reasons for the sensations that ripple throughout his body.

But, at the end of the day, it comes down to the one thing Steve cannot reject.

_Bucky._

“I noticed your absence,” the demon says suddenly, surprising the cadet. Steve opens his eyes as the warmth of Bucky's words greet him.

“When I went to the party?” Steve asks. Bucky makes a small affirmative noise in response.“It feels strange to me too. When we're apart... I mean... I-” The blond begins to stumble on his words, still figuring out what it is he wants to say.

“ _Steve.”_ A quick whisper of the cadet's name has him silent immediately. Bucky's hands roam along Steve's back, trailing up his spine and the blond can't stop himself from shivering at the touch.

The demon gently tugs at the hem his shirt and Steve lift his arms to allow the demon to slip the fabric from his body in one graceful movement. Bucky's chest is warm against his own as the blond wraps his arms once more around the demon's shoulders.

Bucky's wings circle Steve's entire frame. It's one of the most thrilling sensations in the world.

Its _nice._

It feels _good._

Steve feels _protected._

Like taking shelter from a storm.

Except, perhaps this demon is the storm Steve is supposed to be afraid of.

There is one thing that keeps pressing at the back of Steve's mind.

Something Sam had said to him that afternoon, has caused the little gears inside his head to turn like the wheels in an old clock.

“Bucky..?”

“Mmm,” Bucky hums in response, eyes closed as he leans down just enough to nuzzle along the side of the cadet's face.

“I do have one more question.” Steve had searched for answers in his father's journal earlier that day, but there is nothing written to even begin answering his questions.

“Ask away,” the demon purrs.

“You'll answer it?” Steve knows that if he bothers to consult a computer, at most he will find very rare cases of (very high level) demons speaking in human tongue, but merely a few words.

He will not find any record of a demon speaking to the extent that Bucky can.

The only being that can give him the answer he seeks, is the demon before him in this very moment.

“Just ask,” Bucky coos into the blond's ear.

“You said something to me a while ago. It wasn't English,” the cadet states quietly, and yet with such conviction that there is no doubt Steve knows he is right.

Bucky stills his movements at Steve's words, taking a silent moment before deciding to answer.

“It wasn't.”

“It wasn't any human language, was it?”

“No,” Bucky confesses.

“Do you have your own language? Demons I mean...” Steve turns his head to the side, meeting the demon's heavy gaze that burns just inches away.

Bucky straightens his back, standing taller than Steve remembers, neck arched as he looks down at the blond. Steve can feel the touch of the demon's collar under his hands that still rest at Bucky's nape. The collar brushes against his skin as a solemn reminder to the cadet that Bucky is in fact a demon- regardless of the thoughts the cadet may otherwise hold.

Steve, unlike Bucky, is a being who is _unchained._

As Bucky's fingers trace across the younger man's back, along his spine and between sharp shoulder blades... the demon's calloused hands do not find themselves upon anything that would tie down the blond.

But it's something neither of them find themselves contemplating.

“We speak The Forbidden Language,” Bucky finally answers.

“The Forbidden Language?” Steve repeats questioningly.

“Yes.”

“Why is it called that?”

“Its origins date back to many, many years ago,” the demon explains, not exactly avoiding the question...

But, giving the only answer he can.

“Before you were born?”

“Before humans began living,” Bucky states, pausing for just a second before continuing.“All demons know it. Even if they do not speak, they understand.”

“How?” Steve's head tilts to the side in interest, captivated by even the most trivial of details that leave the demon's lips. However, Steve knows the information Bucky tells him is far more intricate and profound than all of the hours of research the cadet has conducted.

“It is a language embedded into us. Like emotions in humans.” Bucky's wings brush against Steve's shoulders; they would keep the blond closer if Bucky's hands weren't already firmly around Steve's waist. “Any more questions, _my little warrior?”_ The demon asks, charming the blond with a devious smirk that has the cadet needing to take a deeper breath.

Steve shakes his head, letting all this new found knowledge sink in and settle. The blond is speechless. He hadn't _actually_ expected Bucky to tell him such details...

And yet, Bucky has shown another part of himself to Steve... to the human with the blue eyes and the intoxicating scent.

To the human with many questions and the stubbornness to find the answers.

“We should go to bed,” Steve mumbles, his tone far from convincing.

“I think we should.” Bucky smirks, eyes alighting with lust.

“ _Bucky!”_ Steve squeaks, caught off guard when the demon playfully nips the side of his throat. Bucky chuckles teasingly as the blond's cheeks blush ever so slightly.

“Or maybe we should continue from the other night?” Bucky purrs, voice deep: coaxing Steve like a jaguar luring in its target.

“Don't get cocky with me.”

“I think that's the whole idea, _doll._ ” Bucky's hands quickly slide down to Steve's ass, earning the demon a delightful, embarrassed squeal.

Steve's heart is beating loudly in his chest- but not from nerves. Bucky's wings act like a barrier to any anxieties that may attempt to dig underneath the cadet's skin. Bucky leans in to place a quick, but steady kiss to the blond's lips, which only has Steve pressing back for another.

The blond's hands come to cup the demon's face, feeling the slight stubble along his jaw under his fingertips as their lips meet again. Steve's mouth parts just as Bucky's does, their kiss becoming more _desperate..._ more _intense._

Bucky's fingers glide up, only to dip under the fabric at Steve's hips to touch the blond's bare skin beneath. Smooth and pristine and Bucky loves the feel of it under his palms. Just as much as Steve relishes in the touch.

Bucky uses his hold on the cadet to pull him impossibly closer, unintentionally grinding against him for one unrestrained moment.

Steve's soft moans has the demon pulling at the waistband of his trousers, tugging the material down until Steve can shift on his feet out of the fabric. The blond blushes as the cool air hits his skin, only to shiver at the feel of Bucky's wings against his calves and thighs.

Bucky takes one step towards Steve, just as the blond takes one step back. Like a dance until the back of the cadet's knees hit the mattress. Steve's arms are draped around Bucky's shoulders, pulling the demon down onto the bed with him.

Bucky pulls back from the blond's embrace, and for a second, Steve's heart jumps in fear. Something deep in his core cries out whenever the demon's touch disappears from his body.

But, the demon keeps his unwavering eyes on Steve, standing to slip out of the rest of his own clothing. The demon grins at the dark pink flush that spreads from the blond's cheeks to his pale chest. Bucky is all toned limbs, irresistible smirks and captivating eyes. The demon's black wings make the rest of his skin appear lighter than it is; makes his metallic arm seem no less lethal... and yet more devastatingly beautiful.

Steve's breath catches in his throat as the demon joins the blond atop the covers, instinctively planting his hands on Steve's waist as their lips press together again and again. It's not too long until the blond is struggling for breath as their bodies entwine with pale legs around strong thighs.

Bucky gently tugs at the elastic of Steve's briefs, evoking a low, sensual moan from the blond, encouraging the demon as their auras coil into one black, golden flecked mist. As soon as Bucky slips the material across Steve's ankles, the demon discards the clothing, only to pull the blond into his lap.

Steve kneels over Bucky's outstretch legs- thighs upon thighs as the younger man rests his hands on the demon's shoulders to balance himself. The demon's metallic hand steadies the cadet at the base of his spine, while the other traces the blond's stomach.

Steve is overwhelmed and yet, the heat that drips from Bucky's hand on his stomach to his inner thighs, has Steve yearning for more of this incredible feeling. Bucky's wings shadow over the cadet, casting his form in darkness as Steve slowly rolls his hips against the demon.

A small moan escapes Bucky's lips, and without thinking, Steve captures it in an unyielding kiss. Bucky smiles at the drawn out gasp when the demon's hand sketches a line down Steve's waist to wrap around the blond's cock.

The warmth of Bucky's palm and heated fingers soon have Steve hot and murmuring the demon's name. The younger man's scent is sweet and permeates the air like a blooming flower, with rosy petals akin to silk under Bucky's touch. The demon breathes the blond in, just as he consumes the little gasps and moans that Steve can't hold back.

“Fuck.” It feels so good, and Steve isn't sure how long hes going to last. _“Bucky.”_

“Mmm, _my little warrior?”_

“I- I'm going to- I want t-to...” The blond stumbles on his words, the pleasure from Bucky caressing his skin has his mind cloudy with an unseen fog.

“You can-” Bucky begins, but Steve interrupts before the demon can finish his sentence.

“No. N-no. I want to... I want to touch you too.”

Bucky moans at that: the thought of Steve's fingers on his own aching cock has the demon's hand faltering, even if just for an unnoticeable second.

“I want you to feel good too,” Steve breathes, though his words are but a mere exhale of hot breath upon the demon's cheeks. Bucky lets out a low rumble of a moan that echoes from the blond's lips.The demon removes his hand from Steve, only to wrap one arm around the blond's waist to pull him even closer, aligning their hips so that Bucky can take both of their hard erections into the palm of his hand.

Each flick of Bucky's wrist has the blond moaning in quick, short pants as the demon bites back his own groans. Steve's arms slink around the demon's neck, fingers clenching and unclenching against the skin of Bucky's back, causing little red lines to form across the demon's shoulders. Bucky's firm, almost tender touch has Steve drenched in vivid, burning desire.

Steve presses his forehead against Bucky's, meeting the demon's amorous gaze. The blond stares into those eyes, and at the hidden emotion they hold within. Skin sparking with pleasure, Steve bites down on his lower lip to stop the loud moan that would have otherwise escaped as Bucky quickens his pace between them. Bucky has to place his lips against Steve's in a delicate kiss to prevent the blond from hurting himself.

“ _Bucky,”_ the blond gasps. Their bond resonates, so low and so deep no creature can hear it, but Steve and Bucky can _feel_ it. _Its too much. Its not enough._

“ _Steve.”_ Its somewhere between a growl and a moan, but to Steve, it's the most intoxicating sound and it sends Steve over the edge.

The blond's climax builds until the very moment his white release coats Bucky's hand, back arching instinctively towards the demon. Steve's head rests on the demon's shoulder, a sheen of sweat upon his forehead as Bucky nuzzles the blond's throat.

Steve can feel his orgasm ripple throughout his body to the very tips of his toes. It's a warmth that feels almost cold in his pounding veins. His loud moan is muffled by Bucky's skin, but the demon knows its an echo of his name.

Bucky's movements still for one seemingly long moment. Bucky gives Steve's cock one last stroke before craning to kiss the blond's cheek. Steve feels the touch upon him and leans up to meet the demon's lips in a chaste kiss.

Steve's heart is fluttering and his skin is flushed, while Bucky appears just as calm and collected as ever. But as the blond risks a tentative glance between them, he sees it is not just his own release that covers the demon's hand.

        

Steve can barely look Bucky in the eye without his cheeks flushing a ridiculous shade of red for the next several days. Every time Steve sneaks a glance, the demon's mouth is a smirk and his eyes full of mischief and something akin to _passion,_ but the blond would call _lust._

Steve hates that Bucky was able to make him ~~come~~ _release_ so quickly, so easily. The blond is not yet immune to the demon's hot touch and the heat in his own body from it, nor does he believe he will ever truly get used to it.

Bucky has a way of making Steve feel sensations... to feel _emotions_ , that he had never considered himself experiencing. Especially not with another being, and certainly not with a demon. And even less so with his _own_ demon.

Every time Steve learns something new about his demon, the cadet's curiosity is not satisfied and he craves even more. The demon confuses Steve more than he will ever admit. These new emotions are nothing short of frightening and the blond can ignore them all he wants... But, eventually, the likelihood of someone finding out grows as fast as weeds in an unkept garden.

Though that's not to say they have done anything _serious._ On the contrary, their tender kisses and heated touches are more often than not innocent, even if usually driven by unvirtuous desire.

There is an invisible line that has not yet been crossed. Like an unseen barrier to keep unwanted emotions locked away.

For the cadet, this wall is made from anxiety, inexperience and fear of the unknown. These are sensations the blond feels everyday and recognises. But, Bucky can sense them, and little by little, the wall is cracking.

Then again, there is the knowledge that both human and demon ache for more. Perhaps that is all that is needed to carve the pathway into a mess of worry and disgrace.

        

All Steve can perceive is complete and utter darkness. Shadows are all around him, swirling up his wrists and twisting around his ankles like black transparent chains.

Like walking through a cave; but there is no sign of light to escape the shadows that grasp at his limbs.

It's not damp and cold.

Steve's body does not shiver from the touch.

His body is warm and the shadows are even warmer. Heated against his skin like vines of black fire.

Suddenly, there is an echo of some horrid sound. Like a creature screaming in agony, or perhaps even in rage. But its deep and almost deafening. Bouncing off invisible walls to resonate around the blond.

Steve can't figure out where its coming from. One moment it sounds as if its in front of him, only a second later to seem as if its right behind the cadet. The scream rings out again and again, scratching against his eardrums and chilling his core. Steve's heart is thrashing between his ribs and lungs at the unknown sonorous shriek.

But, what Steve does know...

Is that there are a pair of eyes watching him from the darkness. Staring, unblinking, right at him. Barely twenty feet away. Whoever, or _whatever,_ those blue eyes belong to... they do not come closer, nor do they move away.

But they watch.

They stare.

Eyes full of hunger and wrath.

Beckoning Steve to come closer, just as much as they warn him to stay away.

Steve is so caught up in the creature's gaze -convincing himself that its not crawling closer and closer towards him- that he doesn't register the wetness of his hands.

Not until the the warmth of the liquid begins to _drip drip_ onto the black floor. Steve gasps, trying to perceive the colour of the thick substance, but its too dark to see at all. Not until after a moment when the blond's eyes seem to adjust to the pitch black of his surroundings.

Steve can make out his hands, his palm and his fingers that shake uncontrollably, covered in a layer of the dark liquid right up to his wrists.

As Steve looks closer, he knows that the substance is a deep crimson hue.

Like red rose petals caressing his skin.

But its sticky and smells like metal.

Its blood.

Steve glances up to where he last saw those disturbing, terrorising eyes.

All he finds is darkness.

Shadows and silence.

Steve is drowning in the black mist all around him.

All he can do is keep looking, searching for those eyes.

Spinning around and around. But there is nothing to pinpoint a beginning, nor an end to the darkness.

Steve can feel the pounding of his blood throughout his body, can hear it along with every one of his quivering breaths- as if he is the only one left in this entire black void.

Then, and only then, does Steve discover the low, terse humming noise. As the blond listens more intently, the sound sharpens into that of a voice.

A voice Steve recognises.

Its getting louder and more distinct each time the voice calls out softly.

Steve searches for the familiar, soothing tone.

Forgetting about the blood dripping between his fingers, he reaches out into the shadows. The voice is nearer, just a step away, but Steve can't move his feet from where they remain planted against the earth.

Steve attempts to call out into the darkness, but no words leave his lips.

They must be right behind him now, for the being sighs against his ear- whispering the blond's name as if its the only thing that matters.

There is no doubt in Steve's mind that it is his demon.

That it is Bucky who enchants the blond with the gentle murmurs of the younger man's name.

Steve can feel Bucky's hands snake around his waist, pulling the blond's back firmly against the demon's chest, anchoring them both. Bucky's arms are gentle and _affectionate_ as they encircle the blond.

Steve glances over his shoulder in an attempt to meet the demon's gaze- to see his expression and the lips that still repeat his name.

Bucky's eyes are glowing silver amongst the shadows that imprison them. Steve can just perceive the outline of those striking wings, open and wide, before they encompass the blond.

The darkness no longer evokes anxiety. The ends of Bucky's wings -covered in those black feathers- are so familiar, so full of this feeling of _safety..._ that Steve can't help but be consumed by the touch.

The feeling of being sheltered from all that may be around them: from anyone or anything that may be looming in the shadows.

Suddenly, the thunderous current of air breaks through the quiet; reverberating like a thousand wings beating against ocean waves.

A quick crackle of lightning has the cadet blinded by white light.

Those divine wings are gone as quickly as they had appeared. Disappearing with the darkness as if they are one and the same.

As Steve's eyes slowly adjust, he can see the form of a dark figure looming over him.

Bucky is no longer pressed behind the blond; instead, Steve's back sinks into something firm and yet comforting. It takes a moment, but Steve realises he is lying down on the very same mattress he sleeps on every night.

Steve's blue eyes stare up at Bucky's face, at his smile and the dark hair that falls to caress the blond's cheeks.

Like a faint memory, except, it feels _real._

The demon is touching Steve's smooth form. Running his hands up and down the cadet's side; from his ribs, all the way down across his hips, to finally rub against Steve's bare thighs.

Bucky's hands are warm and his fingers tickle at Steve's skin. The tender and yet just as firm touch has Steve's stomach twisting in anticipation.

The blond can't help but look up at Bucky with eyes full of longing.

Like a deep hunger... a fixation of lust and yearning with flecks of something far greater than either being can perceive.

It's almost silent.

The only sound is of their heavy breaths entwining in the air between them. Right up until the moment Bucky leans down to kiss the blond's sweet lips.

Steve instantly wraps his arms around Bucky's shoulders, pulling the demon impossibly closer as they both moan into the kiss. Steve's legs encircle Bucky, thighs resting on the demon's hips.

Bucky is like a great force grounding him, clearing the cadet's mind of any anxieties the darkness may have kindled. Steve can feel Bucky gently grinding against him, rocking skin against skin to get _just_ _enough_ friction to have Steve moaning the demon's name.

Steve gets lost in the touch as warmth begins to pool at his inner thighs, trailing little sparks of electricity as the heat spreads throughout his whole body. Steve lets his eyelids fall completely closed when Bucky slips a hand behind his neck, angling the blond's head to allow their kiss to deepen further in one desperate motion.

Its as if neither human or demon can handle one moment of breaking away- not even for the gasp of air that is surely needed to calm their racing hearts.

As the darkness once more consumes his view, the feel of Bucky's lips upon his own vanishes. The weight of the demon is no longer above him, no longer against him and Steve feels unbearably exposed. If just for a second.

Steve's eyes slowly open. The room is dark, but there is just enough light from the moon to allow the blond to depict for the form of the demon next to him.

Bucky is sat up in the bed, bare chest illuminated by the moonlight. One of Steve's arms lay across the demon's hip, feeling the demon's warmth under his palm. The blond's head rests against Bucky's side, subconsciously comforted by the demon's scent and their bond that hums whenever he breathes it in.

Steve blinks a few times before glancing up at the demon who watches him intently, waiting for the cadet to stir.

_Had Bucky sensed his strange dream?_

_Had it even been a dream?_

_It had felt so real._

Steve's brows furrow in confusion. His mind sorting through the remnants of the peculiar dream and the shadows that still haunt the corners of his mind.

The blond lets out a small groan, as if that could make him forget the blood that had soaked his hands and the hidden creature concealed by darkness.

Bucky is still watching him, letting the blond awaken from his slumber completely, even if Steve doesn't move so much as an inch from the demon's side. Bucky's non-metallic arm lay half under the covers, resting against the cadet's back, holding the blond as close as always.

“Why are you awake?” Steve mumbles, lips ever so slightly bumping against the demon's skin as he strings together words of curiosity drenched in the want of sleep. If it was any other time, Bucky would surely smile at the blond's drowsy state.

But, instead, the demon's lips are a thin line and his eyes are a dark silver with the need to protect.

“There is a demon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can see the symbols that make up The Forbidden Language as well as read other demon facts canon to The Demon Bond universe on either:  
> https://www.instagram.com/thedemonbond/  
> or...  
> https://thedemonbond.tumblr.com/
> 
> Don't be afraid to send me a message, and/or ask what a certain word/phrase would look like in The Forbidden Language!


	12. You Are My Shield Of Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Eleven:  
> **Bucky showed Steve his black, feathered wings.  
> **Bucky confessed that demons speak/know the Forbidden Language, which origins date back before humans began living.  
> **The bonded pair spent an intimate few moments together. ;)  
> **Steve had a strange dream of blood on his hands and darkness all around him, with blue eyes watching him; only for Bucky to appear in the dream. Upon awakening, Bucky informed him that there is a demon nearby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

****“Upstairs?” Steve asks, or rather, murmurs.

“No. Across the corridor.”

“What?” Steve sits up immediately, the duvet slipping from his bare shoulders down to his short-covered thighs. “On this floor?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” The blond's voice has a hint of panic to it.

“I recognise its essence,” Bucky explains, watching the cadet whose eyes are on the door, as if that would allow him to see the demon.

“Whose demon is it?” Steve queries, voice low. It's surprisingly quiet and the blond isn't sure how good the other demon's hearing is.

“One of the other soldier's.”

“What is it doing?”

“What I am doing.”

“Which is?” Steve turns to Bucky, meeting the demon's intense gaze. It's not that Bucky is worried about the other demon, or afraid of what it might do. Bucky is far stronger than this fiend, but there is a protective streak in Bucky that has made him defensive. Not of himself... but of the little blond cadet next to him.

“Analysing its presence.”

“Its watching us?”

“In a way.” Bucky is met with an unamused, cocked brow in return at his vague answer, so after a silent moment he continues. “It's trying to determine whether I am a threat or not.”

“Are you?” Steve asks quietly, unsure if he will like the response. But Bucky's next words send a breeze of a cold shiver down his back and a warm blush to his cheeks at what they imply.

“If it comes any closer.”

_If it comes any closer to you._

“Did it come here by itself?” The cadet questions. The fiend surely couldn't have gotten out of the demon-dorms on its own. The amount of safety precautions present there would ensure an alarm were a demon to escape.

“No. It's with a human.” Bucky can hear the faint mutter of a mortal talking absent-mindedly to the fiend, even through the three walls that separate Bucky and Steve from them.

“Its bonded human?”

“Yes.”

“What time is it?” Steve mumbles, more for his own benefit as he reaches for his watch. It's barely past three in the morning. “How long has the demon been on the floor for?”

“Less than a hour.” Bucky doesn't have to look at the time to know: hes been counting every second since he had first sensed the fiend.

“Its not going to hurt anyone, is it?”

“No.”

“You recognise its essence. Can you tell what class the demon is?” Steve asks.

“You would call it a _water class.”_

_Wait..._

The only water class demon bonded to a member of the _Avengers..._ is Tony's demon.

“Are you sure?”

Bucky gives him a look as if to say, with all certainty: _'I'm never wrong.'_

Steve is more than puzzled, perhaps even perplexed as well as apprehensive. Though certainly not as agitated as his own demon. If Steve could see their auras, the room would appear to be filled with black, incandescent smoke. Dense and heavy around them as if that could conceal the blond's rich and lustrous aura.

In reality, there is no threat.

Tony's demon is nothing compared to the dark, immense power that Bucky possesses. Like a small star in the vast expanse of space. A small crack in the pavement. That demon can do little damage to this dark class.

And yet...

The thought of another demon wandering so close when the blond lay resting: its _insulting_.

Like a coyote stepping into a wolf's territory.

No matter the inferiority of the other demon, its place is not here.

Its courage is not boldness, but foolishness.

Bucky listens to and senses the demon. Analysing her every breath. Like a leopard watching the vultures; an instinct to protect its claim.

“Bucky...” Steve whispers the name softly.

“Go back to sleep, _my little warrior,”_ Bucks tells him, voice soft and tender. The blond finds his words hard to refuse- they aren't exactly an order, just gentle words of encouragement.

But the blond follows them, unquestioning, even though he knows he shouldn't.

“You aren't going to sleep as well?” Steve asks, shifting back under the warmth of the covers.

“When the demon leaves.”

“At least lie down instead of staring at the door,” the cadet mumbles.

The demon doesn't answer, but he does as Steve instructs anyway, wrapping his arms around the blond who settles into the crook of Bucky's neck.

Steve sighs, the strange dream on his mind just as much as the knowledge of another demon not far away.

As the blond slips back into a deep sleep, Bucky waits in silence. The gentle snores from the cadet act as a lullaby, but the demon persistently resists the call.

Bucky stays awake until the demon finally leaves- secured back in the demon-dorms. But it's barely a moment later that Steve's alarm is ringing in his ears.

        

Steve doesn't ask Tony about bringing his demon to his room in the middle of the night.

Not only would it be crossing the hidden line they've created, but it would be extremely hypocritical of Steve to ask.

Every single night since Steve and Bucky first bonded... Steve has slept in his demon's arms.

But, while Steve knows his own intentions, he does not know Tony's. Although it pains the blond not to know, to _understand_... He realises he is not in the position to question the other cadet.

When Steve had awoken that morning, nothing seemed different when they went on their morning run, nor in their manifesting session.

However, when the blond asks if Bucky knows what they did that night, his demon remains quiet. Eyes scowling and arms folded across his chest with a mere grunt as if that could get Steve to stop asking.

But Steve is persistent and -eventually- Bucky gives in. He tells the cadet he had heard Tony's muffled voice and eventually the hush of the a whirring computer. He tells Steve how the demon hadn't left until a few minutes before the blond's alarm came to life.

They clearly hadn't wanted to be seen. Though their actions didn't suggest the need for such privacy and secrecy.

So Steve is only more intrigued.

The rest of the week goes by uneventfully. Just the sound of trucks buzzing and the occasional hoot of an owl passing overhead disturbing peaceful sleeps.

“You have your first class tomorrow?” Bucky questions, settling onto the bed as the blond picks up his laptop from the desk.

“Hmm? Oh, the lectures, yeah,” Steve confirms, joining Bucky on the firm mattress. Their shoulders knock together as the demon adjusts his position to accompany the blond.

There isn't a reason for the cadet to break his habit and not work at his desk... But, there also isn't a reason as to why Steve shouldn't enjoy the touch of Bucky's bare skin against his arms or the warmth that radiates from the demon.

“Will I be present as well?”

“I don't see why not,” Steve replies, the corners of his mouth upturning in the smallest of smiles. The demon pauses as the cadet's laptop hums into action.

“You enjoy reading? You enjoy learning?” Although Bucky knows this, he phrases his statement as a question.

“I enjoy reading and learning about _demons._ There are plenty of things I rather not learn about,” Steve admits. The blond is not one to learn for the mere sake of it. But, when something grabs Steve's attention and piques his interest... he can't help but find out more.

“Like what?”

“Shakespeare, for example. Or perha-”

“What is _Shakespeare?”_ Bucky's head tilts to the side towards the blond. There are so many strange things in the human realm. Stranger places and even stranger beings. But Bucky can rely on the blond to teach him about Steve's world. Just as Steve can rely on the demon to indulge him in details... Even if these details come few and far between.

“An English poet, and play-writer,” Steve explains.

“What did he write about?”

“Lots of different things, though nothing in my interests. Although...” Steve looks off into the distance: his gaze empty but absorb in thought.

“Although?” Bucky presses.

To say the demon isn't compelled by every one of Steve's expression, would be far from the truth. The wisdom and yet such naivety of those blue eyes bewitch and tempt the demon as much as a mountain of gold would to a pirate.

“Romeo and Juliet.”When Bucky's face remains as blank and expecting as before, Steve continues. “Its about a demon who seduces a young man and manipulates him into loving her. She pretends to kill herself, and then he ends his own life.”

“And then?”

_Surely the story can't end there?_

“She feeds upon his flesh,” Steve states simply. The particular piece of writing is world-renowned. Like a legend to scare little children into behaving. To frighten young love and arouse suspicion of those you cherish.

“That doesn-” Bucky begins, but Steve cuts him off, with a light sigh.

“I know, Bucky. They didn't know a great deal about demons back then.”

“And now humans know more?” Bucky raises a brow as Steve shakes his head.

“Not as much as they think they know,” the blond clarifies. Steve opens up the document he was working on, but after a moment, closes the laptop completely. “Bucky?”

“Yes?”

“Can you read?” Steve asks inquisitively.

“Can I read what?” Bucky counters, the question surprising him.

The demon may know of the emotions that flow through their bond, but he cannot always figure out what swirls inside that precious mind.

“In general.”

“In general?” Bucky doesn't quite understand the phrase.

“I mean. Can you read English?” Steve giggles, laptop practically abandoned in favour of gazing up at the demon beside him.

“I can.”

“Have you ever read a book?”

“No.”

The demon cannot gain any knowledge that observing doesn't already provide.

To sit and read seems like a preposterous idea, and honestly, Bucky wouldn't be able to immerse himself in anything that isn't the blond.

“Would you like to? I'm sure I can find something suitable.”

“I would rather watch you read.” Steve blushes at Bucky's words.

“I assume you don't have any books in the Netherworld,” Steve guesses, only to receive a small grunt in reply.

“Not books, no.”

“Do you have something else? Any stories at all?”

Stories would imply a culture, and a culture would mean that there is so much more to learn. That there is something beneath the cold, isolated exterior of demons.

“We have The Xelsw.”

"Xeay-lu-seew?” Steve repeats each syllable he had heard; pronunciation far better than Bucky had expected.

“Yes.”

“Can you describe it to me?”

“Symbols upon flat stones,” Bucky states simply; monotonous, as if he really doesn't have an interest in the subject of his words.

Steve can imagine thick slates of stone, carved with unknown symbols. Light enough to hold in your hands, with a certain smoothness to its curved edges.

“What are they? What do they do?”

“They are written energy.”

“Written energy?” Steve echoes questioningly, brows furrowed in confusion.

“I cannot explain it.”

Whether Bucky can't say anymore because he's not sure _how..._ or whether he isn't _supposed_ to say anything at all is unclear.

Bucky's expression gives nothing away and if anything, Steve doesn't want to push the demon too far. Not when his eyes seem so much darker, so much colder than he remembers.

Perhaps even... _distant._

“The symbols are in your language?”

“The Forbidden Language, yes.”

Steve stays quiet for a long moment.

The room is so calm, only the gentle flitting of the pipes and the blond's breaths can be heard. But Bucky only focuses on one of those sounds.

“When we open a gateway, there are symbols written on the floor. But if its your language, how have we come to use it without actually knowing its meaning?”

“Some of the Xelsw fell into this realm centuries ago. Humans found them and learnt how to use the language to their benefit,”Bucky explains. However, Steve's wide, expecting eyes tell the demon he is waiting for more. “By redrawing the symbols in a particular order, it creates energy.”

 _'We have exploited the things we know little of...'_ Steve thinks to himself.

Humans have used demons in the ways they do not understand and yet, because the consequences benefit the human race, it continues to happen.

Again and again.

It will keep happening until the leash is so short that demons suffocate under the control.

“Are they important to demons?”

“The Xelsw?”

“Yeah. Don't demons want to get them back?” Steve's face is inching closer to Bucky's; their eyes locked and exhales entwining to caress the other's cheeks.

“Most demons now do not know of their existence,” Bucky murmurs, watching as Steve's eyes flicker to the demons lips, only to meet his stare once more.

Just as demons no longer know of the Xelsw, nor do humans.

Nowhere are demon plaques mentioned in any articles or research papers. Their discovery has not yet been boasted or proclaimed.

Steve wonders why the government has kept their existence a secret.

But when the cadet conjures up ideas of the mass chaos it could bring, it is easy to see why the demonologists have kept quiet.

“Bucky?” Steve whispers the demon's name. Voice low, for Bucky is so close and the blond's words are meant only for his demon.

“Mm?” The demon leans just that little nearer, lips brushing as softly as eyelashes upon skin.

“Do _you_ want to return them to your realm?” Steve asks, tone light and full of a certain tenderness the blond hadn't known was there.

Bucky sighs, deep and long as if still figuring out the answer. But one look at the blond with worried eyes has Bucky knowing the answer immediately.

“It would not make a difference.”

“You don't want to find out where they are?”

“I'm fine as I am.”

“Are you-” Steve doesn't have the chance to ask if the demon is sure, because Bucky is certain and his voice conveys it just as much as his eyes that bare warmth into the blond's skin.

“I'm fine here.” ... _with you...._

“We better get some rest, then,” Steve admits softly, leaning to place the laptop onto the desk.

“Mmm,” Bucky hums, raising one arm to allow the blond to settle into his embrace.

“We've used your own language to trap you here,” Steve mutters finally, eyes tracing the symbols across the demon's collar.

“Do not affiliate yourself with those humans,”Bucky coos into Steve's ear, fingers brushing away the strands of blond hair. “You are different from them.”

        

“My name is Doctor Erskine,” the man informs them, accent foreign to the cadets.

Steve is sure that if they stood side by side they would be of similar height, but that is where their alikeness ends. The doctor is almost round in appearance, with a balding head and dark bushy eyebrows to contrast what little white hair he has left. Erskine wears round-rimmed glasses as if to compliment his lab coat and the brown trousers underneath. He appears tired, but his face has a kindness to it amongst the dark stubble along his jaw.

“I'm a demonologist at this establishment. My speciality is the study and interpretation of demon anatomy,” Doctor Erskine reveals. The cadets all listen intently, sat close together on the front row of the lecture theatre, their demons right behind them.

“I will be one of your lecturers, the other will be Professor Kruger who specialises in demon behaviour.

“Together, we will give you the knowledge you need to not only take on future demons, but the ones you are bonded to.

“It it important that -to be successful- you understand the particulars of your own demon first.

“Any questions so far?” Erskine asks, brow raised at the anxious and yet eager cadets. Sam raises his hand, and with a nod of the doctor's head, speaks:

“What do you mean by the particulars of our demons? We've had them analysed already.”

“While that may be true. You need to know your demons in far greater detail. The mere knowledge of class, type and level, in reality, gives you very little information,” Erskine explains with a wave of his hands.

“So what will we be learning?” Clint queries, voice echoing the question everyone else is wondering.

“Everything. You may know the basics of all demons. But you need to know the depths of your own to be able to contain the demons you will surely meet in the field.” The doctor pauses before continuing, the white lights of the theatre reflecting on his face, which only makes his enthusiasm more evident.

“You will be analysing, by yourselves, _every single aspect_ of your demon. From physical attributes to the things we cannot see with the naked eye.”

“This seems a little more practical than the lectures last year,” Sam mutters to the blond. Steve nods his head slightly in agreement, unsure of this new development.

To find out more about Bucky's biology, greatly intrigues the blond. Steve wants nothing more than to start that very second.

However, the cadet is hesitant.

Steve (despite his every thought suggesting otherwise) is always afraid of what he might discover.

Bucky began as a blank page.

But now the ink has been spilled over it and slowly, so slowly, words are forming. And yet, the rest of the book is covered in the black ink and Steve cannot read through it.

“We'll be doing blood samples next week. For now, I'll give you a presentation on the visual aspects you will be exploring, and the level of detail required.” Erskine quickly picks up and types at the electronic tablet in his grasp. The wide screen directly ahead of them turns white as it interprets the desired task.

“First of all: wings, horns, body type, markings. Make note of your demon's true form. What is the purpose of each characteristic? I _don't_ want to see generalised accounts. I want you to infer why _your_ demon has the traits it does.”

Doctor Erskine brings up an example on the electronic board. It takes a moment, but Steve realises the document displayed is about Fury's demon.

“The blood samples will then allow you to see your demon's biology at its most intricate level. You will learn how to figure out a demon's type, as well as its class from the essence.

“The week after that you will learn how to use the latest technology to analyse auras as well as essence to be able to comprehend a demon's level.”

Steve glances at Bucky out of the corner of his eye to find the demon watching him. It sends a cold chill down Steve's spine, but he doesn't shiver from it. Rather, the blond can feel the blood under his cheeks rising to the surface in a flustered blush.

“Then, and only then... Will your true _lectures_ begin. We'll see how well you are able to apply your knowledge to knew scenarios.

“Because in the field. If you don't know the depths of a demon... what makes them such beings... you have no chance of taking them down.”

        

They have until the end of the week to give Erskine their reports. In all honesty, Steve has no idea where to begin.

Should Steve start with analysing Bucky's wings?

The lack of horns?

The obvious muscles?

~~The eyes that seem to glow silver unexpectedly?~~

Steve's pen bounces against the desk in a repetitive _tap tap tap._ Bucky stands, thigh leaning against the desk next to the blond as the demon stares out the window.

The rectangular sheets in front of Steve remain as white and empty as they were almost thirty minutes ago.

“Is there a second base?” Bucky blurts out, eyes still casting their gaze on the trucks in view, the same large, intricate symbol on all of their sides.

“What?” Steve's movements still at the peculiar question. The blond looks up at the demon whose focus lies on the world outside. Bucky's arms are folded across his chest, his physique illuminated by the bright glow of the sun set reflecting in the sky.

“The same vehicles keep returning,” the demon states, though his words do nothing to clarify their intentions.

“I don't understand.”

Bucky turns his head to face the blond,

“They leave with a demon. But they don't come back with one.” Bucky's tone is serious, but not concerned. Steve understands that whatever happens to others demons does not affect Bucky's emotions, but in this case, it does intrigue his mind.

“I... I don't know of a second base,” Steve confesses.

Further thoughts on the matter stay unspoken.

Especially considering that those demons may no longer be upon this earth _alive._

“You haven't written anything,” Bucky utters when the blond relaxes back into the chair again. The demon's eyes do not have to flicker onto the blank pages to know that Steve hasn't noted a single word.

“I guess I'm a little stuck,” the blond admits, rubbing his eyelids with the back of his hand in a gesture of exhaustion.

“Your project is on me, is it not?” Bucky asks, leaning a few inches closer to the cadet, though the distance between them seems increasingly far.

“It is.”

Bucky smirks at that, as if it is a great source of entertainment.

“Stop that!” Steve exclaims, though Bucky grins all the more from it.

“Stop what, _my little warrior?”_

“Giving me that look,” the blond grumbles, arms folding in mock offence.

“And what look is that, doll?” The demon leans ever so closer.

“You know exactly what look, Bucky.” Steve suddenly stands, grabbing the sheets as well as the pen. “Take your shirt off.”

“Want me to take off all my clothes to save you the trouble?” Bucky teases, trying to coax some sort of reaction from the cadet, though all he gets is a roll of the eyes in response.

“Just the shirt, thanks,” Steve retorts, shifting onto the bed with his back against the wall. Steve's knees bend; thighs pulled towards his chest to rest the paper upon them.

“Alright.” Bucky chuckles, hauling his shirt over his head.

“Sit on the chair, but show me your back,” the blond demands.

Bucky raises an eyebrow but does as follows: straddling the chair so that he faces the back of it, allowing his spine and broad shoulders to be exposed to the blond.

“And now?”

“Show me your wings,” Steve instructs, but then, more hesitantly says: “please...”

“Only if I get a kiss after.” Bucky smiles in the most devious of ways- though his eyes are full of affection.

“...Fine.” Steve averts his gaze, and not a split second later, the familiar feel of cool wind against his skin signals the demon's wings return. As if reawakening in all their dark vitality and undeniable elegance.

“What are you going to do?” The demon asks.

“You'll see,” Steve answers quickly. Bucky stays silent after that, waiting for the cadet to finish. Each pen stroke against the paper makes a light scratching sound as Steve draws the demon's wings. The action brings a certain nostalgia with it- of days and nights spent sketching in bed when Steve was too weak to do anything else.

His pictures had been terrible at first. But the blond was gifted with plenty of time to practice, and eventually, his drawings developed into a level Steve is proud (if also embarrassed) to show.

As the sun finally disappears and the night takes over, Steve decides his drawings are enough. Three detailed, black sketches of Bucky: one of his whole back, showing how the wings stretch out on either side of Bucky's spine, as if mirroring one another. A second drawing, focusing just on one wing, and a final, intricate sketch of an individual feather.

Steve almost can't wait to annotate them with every thought that crosses his mind. But, Bucky has waited for far too long and although the demon shows no outward sign of impatience, Steve can feel the demon's eagerness through their bond.

“Okay, I'm done.” Steve shuffles to the edge of the bed as Bucky pushes away from the chair to join the blond.

“These are good,” Bucky praises as his eyes scan the drawings.

To the demon, they are as good as photographs. Steve's drawings have captured the beauty of the demon's wings: how the feathers shine in the light and the smoothness of each hair.

However, the cadet has not failed to capture their darkness, their _power._ The blond has not ignored the dominating effect of the wings nor their heavy presence. It is this aspect to the drawings, that evoke some deep emotion from the demon's core.

Steve has shown his acceptance of the demon. Of every feature and detail that make up Bucky's being.

Although Steve does not know everything -for perhaps that would be too much- the blond has demonstrated his willingness to tackle and bear the weight of all that he will come to realise.


	13. I Trust In Your Shadows, So Trust In My Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Twelve:  
> **Bucky informed Steve that it was Tony's demon present on their floor.  
> **Bucky informed Steve of written energy known as The Xelsw, which fell into the human realm, where demonologists discovered them (though their discovery has been kept a secret).  
> **Doctor Erskine told the cadets to do an in-depth analysis of their demons.  
> **Steve drew Bucky's wings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

****“You like them?” Steve asks, barely containing his smile.

The blond rarely shares his art with anyone, but when he does, the compliments are always kind. However, coming from Bucky makes Steve's heart flutter that little bit more.

“Yes. I did not know you could draw this well.”

“I'll take that as a compliment,” Steve mutters, though he's not insulted by Bucky's words.

“It was intended as one,” Bucky remarks. If the blond dared a look, he would find a softness to the demon's eyes.

Steve can feel Bucky's wings gracing across his shoulders before surely returning back into the demon's spine. The demon is quiet as Steve stretches to place the drawings back onto the desk. When the blond meets the demon's gaze, Bucky says nothing at all, just stares right back.

“What?”

“May I?” The demon asks, tilting closer to Steve. The blond can feel Bucky's breath on his face- sweet smelling, like fruit and Steve knows exactly how it will taste when their lips meet.

“May you what?” Steve goads; the best intentions in mind. The blond can sense Bucky's desire, for the air has shifted around them. Something has changed from a moment ago, and Steve believes that (sometimes) change isn't a bad thing.

“Have my kiss now.” The demon snakes one arm around the blond's waist with ease. Steve finds himself sinking back against the touch.

“I said you could.” The blond responds quietly, just as Bucky's fingers around his waist grip ever so slightly tighter on his hip.

“Mmm, you'll allow it?” Bucky hums, metallic fingers caressing the blond's cheeks; thumb grazing along Steve's rosy lips before finally resting under his jaw.

“Yeah,” Steve breathlessly answers, his voice a mere whisper.

Their eyes meet for a seemingly everlasting moment. But, in reality it is barely a second before Bucky tilts his head to allow his lips to press against the blond's.

Their kiss is gentle, languid and filled with serenity. The movement of their lips slow, as if they have all the time in the world to solely take in the other's presence.

How Steve's lips feel like silk against Bucky's. How Bucky's hand slips under the blond's shirt to rest on the cadet's bare skin beneath. How that only makes warmth pool under the smooth skin where the demon's palm rubs innocently against it.

“I need to get back to work...” Steve admits quietly, pulling from the kiss. Bucky's hold of the cadet does not release and when Steve tries to get up, the demon grasps his wrist.

“One more?” Bucky requests.

How could Steve possibly refuse?

Not when his own body is calling out the same plea.

Steve smiles, leaning down before pressing his lips to Bucky's in a light peck. The demon's thumb strokes over the cadet's vein upon his wrist, feeling it pulsate with warmth under his touch.

“There. Happy?” Steve asks, looking right into the demon's silver-flecked eyes.

“I'm very satisfied.” Bucky smirks.

The demon releases his grip, seemingly content- the blond can hear his low hum of delight as he sits back at the desk.

It doesn't take long for Steve to become lost in thought; pen scrawling black ink at all angles alongside his drawings. The numbers on Steve's watch only increase as the full moon rotates into its highest peak of the night.

The blond is hunched over his work, when the artificial light above him cuts out. The room becomes enveloped by shadows and Steve can barely make out the white sheets of paper in front of him.

Steve turns quickly to find Bucky's darkened form by the light switch; his stance relaxed with his hand dropping back to his side.

“Bucky! Turn the light back on!” Steve exclaims, his tone hushed as he becomes aware of the lack of voices in the dorm.

“Your shoulders are slacking and your hand is shaking,” Bucky states.

“Its fine, I haven't got much left.” Steve tries to persuade the demon. But Bucky doesn't believe it for one second. He knows Steve will keep piling work upon work until he's drowning in the need for perfection.

“You're tired.” The demon wonders closer to the cadet.

“I can handle a little lack of sleep. I want to get this section finished.”

“ _Steve,”_ Bucky implores. The younger man can feel his limbs tensing up.

“ _Bucky,”_ Steve retorts. There's a bite to his reply and it brings a frown between Bucky's brows.

“ _Steve,”_ the demon repeats, more of a command than an attempt at convincing the blond. Although there is an inflexible nature to his words, there a softness to his tone. A certain tenderness in an otherwise unyielding demand.

But, Steve is stubborn and every fibre of his being tells him to ignore the instruction, to continue with his work. Except the part of him that only wants him to give in under the demon's heavy gaze.

“Turn the light back on, then,” Steve sighs, standing. When Bucky makes no indication of movement, the blond clarifies the order. “I can't change in the dark.”

Steve expects some snarky reply in response, but the demon merely turns on his heel to switch the light on. The blond is quick to pick up the pen and finish off his last sentence while the demon's back is turned.

As the younger man twists back around, he is met with a single, dark raised brow and muscular folded arms. Steve gives the demon a shameless smile before searching for his night-clothes.

When the blond is finished brushing his teeth and his face is cool with the liquid he had splashed upon it, he discovers the demon shuffling through the sheets of paper. Bucky reads them with sheer intensity. So much so that, if he was human, he would not have noticed the cadet approaching.

“You are rather perceptive,” Bucky commends, placing the sheets back in their rightful place.

“I could say the same about you.”

“Hmm.” The demon ponders the thought for a moment, before his mouth turns into a devilish grin. “Call it _instinct_. _”_

“Instinct, huh?”

“You going to sleep with me now?” Bucky questions.

“If by sleep, you mean the literal kind and not the euphemism, then, yes,” Steve replies, serious, but his intentions are wholly teasing.

“We'll see.” Bucky smirks, turning the light off once more before searching for the blond in the darkness.

Steve presses up against the wall, allowing enough room on the mattress for the demon to slide in next to him. Bucky's hands immediately land on Steve's waist, pulling the younger man into his arms. The sudden heat of the demon's touch causes a surprised squeak to escape past the blond's lips. Bucky chuckles at the sound, nuzzling into the cadet's soft hair as it brushes against his nose.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” the blond says into the demon's bare chest. The warmth of his breath reflects back at him, but not as much as the heat of Bucky's body does.

“Goodnight.”

“Hey, Bucky?” Steve murmurs barely a minute later.

“Mm?” The demon grunts, his embrace tightening around the blond.

“Thank you,” the younger man whispers.

“What for?”

“For letting me draw your wings.”

“You're welcome, _my little warrior.”_ Bucky presses a gentle kiss to the blond's head, until finally, sleep takes them both.

        

It's later the next day that the cadets find themselves with some spare time between manifesting and exercising in the Gym. Tony had managed to convince Steve to come along to the dorm lounge with the rest of the _Avengers_ to escape the heat of the overbearing sun _._

Even though the blond had protested that he wanted to get more of his analysis done, Tony had him persuaded by acknowledging the fact that Steve's demon isn't going anywhere.

That may be true.

Bucky has no intention of being somewhere that isn't the blond's side.

Steve finds himself on one of the couches, settled between Sam and Tony. Their demons hover behind them, calm from manifesting, and yet... If Steve listens closely enough, he can hear a deep growling sound radiating from Bucky's chest.

Or perhaps, it's the demon's intentions the blond can sense, and the noise is only from their bond vibrating with Bucky's displeasure.

Steve tries to ignore the low rumble as Clint attempts to explain to the cadets the rules of a card game the blond has never heard of before.

“Hows your demon analysis going?” Sam asks the blond.

“Good. What about yours?”

“The same. But, my demon has this strange marking and I don't know what to make of it,” Sam admits.

“Oh? If you send me a picture of it, I might be able to help,” Steve offers. There are several symbols in his father's journal with tiny scrawled annotations of their meaning. But, the markings found upon demons are forever increasing like rats in the sewers. So many that it's becoming difficult to interpret their meanings.

“Send it to me. I can cross-check the picture with the online data base of known markings.” Tony interrupts.

“We have that?” Steve's eyes widen.

“Special access only.” Tony smirks, finger on the bridge of his nose in a gesture of secrecy.

“Thanks, man. It's appreciated,” Sam replies, his expression an uneasy smile.

“No problem. Glad to be of assistance.”

Clint seems to give up on his explanation when Bruce questions the logic of it, slumping next to Wanda on one of the other sofas in complete defeat.

“Hey, I was looking at the news earlier. There was an attack on one of the New York buildings close by,” Rhodey informs them. The cadets all sit up a little straighter at Rhodey's words in a mixture of shock and curiosity.

“What class of demon?” Sam asks, intrigued.

“Electricity. Burnt out the electrics on the whole block.”

“Really?” Tony raises a questioning eyebrow.

The electricity classes Steve has heard of are usually only capable of flickering lights and TV screens, or at most burning out light bulbs. To destroy the electric grid on an entire block... it certainly catches the blond's interest.

“Yeah, they're still trying to turn them back on last time I checked.”

“It must have been a high level demon,” Clint guesses.

“There were two.”

The cadets would have thought he was joking. But Rhodey's dead-pan expression tells them otherwise.

“Two demons? Together?”

“Thats what I heard.” Rhodey shrugs.

“Could have just been a trickster type.” Wanda thinks aloud.

“I thought so too. But, the level on both were too low. It wouldn't have been able to do that sort of trickery if it was just the one demon.” Rhodey shrugs, shaking his head at the thought.

“How did they manage to get into the middle of the city anyway?” Steve asks.

New York has the best surveillance around, including special equipment to recognise a demon if it dares to walk the streets. Unless a gateway opened... but there is technology to detect even the slightest sign of an opening.

The attack shouldn't have happened.

Steve can't get his head around why it did.

“I'm sure that's what everyone wants to know,” Rhodey sighs. Steve can tell the other cadet is concerned. But then again, they all are. There's a certain atmosphere to the room that has them all on edge.

“Did they send a team in to dispatch them? I didn't hear anything,” Bruce questions the cadet.

“Like we actually get told anything here.” Sam shakes his head in annoyance. The cadets are very aware of the academy's secrets and their lack of participation in them. At least for now.

“Well, technically, we are at the bottom of the food-chain here. At least where people are concerned,” Clint interjects, chin resting on his knuckles.

It's in that moment, that Steve has to resist glancing at his demon. The blond agrees with his team-mate, and yet... it doesn't feel _right._ Like, it shouldn't be _true._

But it is.

Steve is not in the position to change that. He's unsure if he ever will be. Maybe, for now, just wanting something in the world to change is enough. Perhaps pure, hidden interactions are enough.

On the other hand, the blond could be wrong.

However, there are far greater things to worry about.

“So, what? The demons were working together?” Tony asks, unsure.

“It might have been a coincidence,” Rhodey suggests, shrugging once again.

“No, wouldn't that be too much of a coincidence?” Wanda's brows squint together in contemplation.

“Why do you think that?” Bruce questions.

“Same class, same level, same area. Doesn't seem right,” Wanda explains.

The rest of the cadets nod their heads in a gesture of silent agreement.

“Well, It's not as if we'll ever find out,” Clint quips.

Steve doesn't perceive the rest of the conversation, too lost in his own questions that infecthis thoughts. Like a blizzard enveloping his mind in the unknown. A blizzard so fierce, the answers become covered in a white blanket, obscured from view.

The cadet does not know how to find those answers.

        

During dinner that evening the cadets discuss and debate the curious incident. A few of the third years overhear their conversation and join them. But, they know as little as they do. No one can give a sure explanation for what happened.

They did not witness the attack, nor are they of a high enough rank to receive the details of it.

All they can do is come up with half-hearted guesses.

For at the end of the day... proportional to all there is to know, humanity understands very little about the creatures that creep into the human realm.

The air is bitter cold, the sky dark and cloudy, and Steve has to clench his fingers in an attempt to keep them warm as the cadets quickly walk back to the dorms.

“Damn. Its freezing.” Sam shivers, just as much as the rest of them shake from the icy rays of silver light from the moon that peeks between the clouds.

Their demons follow behind them at a steady pace- immune to the cold and watching the humans shiver with hard-staring eyes. Bucky is closer to his bonded human than the other demons. Close enough, in fact, that he can reach out his fingers to brush against the back of Steve's hand, transferring the slightest bit of warmth into the cadet's veins.

Steve thinks of how hot Bucky would feel against him compared to the wind that nips at his skin. Like an embrace of sparking fire. A fire that burns out of control and completely swallows the blond in the feeling of rapture and safety.

“Do you think they'll turn the heating in the dorms on?” Clint asks.

“I didn't even think there was any heating,” Tony laughs, if a little lacking in enthusiasm.

“There are extra blankets in my dorm hall if any of you need some,” Wanda kindly suggests.

If Steve knew he wouldn't be wrapped up in Bucky's arms as he sleeps, he would probably use those thin sheets of fabric to keep himself warm. But, he _will_ be wrapped securely in his demon's arms in the darkness and faint rays of moonlight.

“I might have to take you up on that offer.” Bruce smiles, arms folded, bracing himself against the wind.

The dorms are colder than expected, and several of the cadets follow Wanda to gather the blankets. It's only Steve, Tony and their demons that wander up to their floor, evading the demon-dorms altogether.

“More analysis?” Tony asks, nodding towards Bucky who so clearly stays close to the blond's side.

“Yeah. Still got body type and markings to write up,” Steve explains. Although that may be true, the blond has no intention of discarding his demon afterwards. However, the analysis gives a great -and wholly innocent- excuse as to why Steve would allow his demon into his room. “And you?”

“I'm going to make a start on my demon's analysis,” Tony chuckles. Bucky catches the fleeting look the other cadet gives their demon. Tony scratches the back of his head awkwardly. “I'll see you in the morning, then.”

“Goodnight.” Steve smiles, watching Tony turn towards his room just as the blond opens his own door.

Once in the confines of Steve's room, the blond's shoulders relax as he lets out a deep sigh. The day's concerns fade like a drop of coloured liquid mixing with water. Still there. But, can no longer be seen- or felt.

Steve flicks the main light on and has to squint against the sudden brightness in the previously dark room. The blond tries his hardest to ignore Bucky who automatically begins to strip off his uniform. The demon smirks as Steve slinks past into the bathroom to change.

As if the blond has anything to be modest about.

Bucky certainly doesn't think Steve should be _shy_ nor _embarrassed_. Not after what they've done. But... it does give the blond a certain charm that makes him irresistible to the demon.

It makes Bucky want to touch and hold the younger man: to caress his skin until the blond can only moan the demon's name. Until Steve no longer blushes from embarrassment, but with ecstasy.

The demon watches the trucks setting off in the near distance from the small window, their low hum a fiery echo in the calmness of the academy. It's not a moment later that Bucky can feel blue eyes gazing over his skin as the blond tip-toes around him, as if inspecting the demon.

A few minutes pass and Steve's stare remains on the demon's flesh: examining and investigating with pure curiosity. The blond is trying to be discreet with his intentions, but Bucky can read him like an open book.

Even if it wasn't for their bond, Steve's eyes are always full of emotion and this, is what gives him away.

“You wont see it,” Bucky states, turning his head towards the blond who in turn stares back like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Hmm?” Steve replies, a light pink blush tainting his cheeks at being discovered. The younger man's fingers fiddle with the loose fabric of his grey sweatpants. Bucky watches the movement of slender fingers moving anxiously.

Or perhaps, they move with utter want...

A craving: itching and scratching at his skin like little butterflies of desire fluttering along his limbs.

“My mark.” Bucky takes a careful step closer to the cadet. When the blond averts his gaze, the demon walks closer until he is merely one step away.

“Ah...”Steve says, as if he should have known nothing is easy when it comes to his demon. Bucky waits for the blond to speak. The demon knows he will by the way the blond bites his lower lip in nervous contemplation. Steve raises his gaze to meet the demon's eyes. “Can you show it to me?”

Bucky seems unsure. Maybe even reluctant to respond to the blond's gentle question. Steve studies the demon's expression for any sign of what is to come. But, Bucky's face is like a frozen river- the surface is covered with ice, and there is no way to tell what lies underneath.

The current may be fast and unstoppable, or it may be calm and graceful. It may welcome Steve's tentative prods, or the surface could break and the blond could become swept away into the endless unknown.

“It is an old marking,” the demon tells the blond, voice tender, and yet there is an edge to it that makes Steve feel uneasy.

“Okay.”

“You wont write about it.” It is a command, not a question.

“If you don't want me to, I wont,” Steve assures the demon.

After a moment of their eyes interlocking, communicating without words, the demon moves. Bucky shifts so his left side faces the blond, metallic arm clenching as if to display its muscular appearance.

All at once, black tendrils of shadows encircle the demon's arm, gathering around his bicep as the metal turns darker from the vine-like darkness that covers it. Steve's eyebrows squint together as he watches the area like one would to an intricate drawing– with great intensity.

Steve isn't quite sure what he is perceiving: a deep red symbol marks the demon's arm. But it's faded. Perhaps even scratched. It's not as bright or clear at it once was.

The shadows dissipate in the air and Steve's head tilts in confusion. The blond can't figure out what it is, let alone what it _means._ The mark is a dim, metallic, almost circular symbol and Steve has no idea where to begin analysing. The cadet leans a little closer. The feel of the demon's eyes upon his skin has the blond blushing, but far from discouraged.

Steve gets caught up in the surge of thoughts that wash over his mind like a tidal wave. But then, the younger man finally figures it out. Bucky watches those blue eyes widen in realisation.

The symbol... is a _star_.

A five-pointed, red star.

Or, the mark _was_ a five-pointed red star.

“Its a star?” Steve questions, though he knows he can't be wrong. Even if the mark is old and worn out, like a painting left outside in a storm, its remnants still hold the overall picture. Even if the details, or the _meaning_ has been washed away and lost.

Bucky remains silent, giving nothing away. However, the demon's silence tells the blond that his conclusions are not wrong. Steve doesn't understand why Bucky had been so reluctant to show the blond his mark. To Steve, the mark means nothing, but to the demon, it must mean an awful lot.

Something Bucky would rather forget about. Perhaps the demon is even embarrassed or _ashamed_ of.

But... how could that be so?

Can a demon feel such emotions?

Months ago, Steve would have said no. Maybe even laughed at the thought of it. But their bond vibrates with something that does not radiate from the blond, but from the demon himself.

It isn't actuallyembarrassment or the feeling of being ashamed. Albeit it is something akin to those emotions. To describe it would be to liken it to how a person would keep an object locked away, to keep it in darkness and hidden from all. Not to keep it for themselves, but to stop anyone else witnessing it. The purpose is not protection of that object, but to stop someone close leaving because of it.

As if the object would drive that being away.

That is what the emotion represents.

Its complicated and Steve doesn't fully comprehend it. Although he will do everything he can to try to understand the demon's thoughts, Bucky does not make it easy.

That doesn't necessarily mean the blond will give up.

Far from it, in-fact. The younger man strives to know much more about his demon, even if some of the pieces of the puzzle are only just being discovered.

“What does it mean?” Steve asks, reaching out tentative fingers to press a fleeting touch upon the metallic surface. Bucky pulls his arm away, taking a careful step back. Steve's hand falls back to his own side, flinching as if he had been burned. The cadet's heart almost skips a beat as his lungs tighten from the rejection of his touch.

The black mist twists along Bucky's arm, and -after a few moments- the mark disappears as if it had never been there in the first place. Steve stares at the blank, shiny silver plates before meeting the demon's gaze.

“Bucky?” Steve calls the demon's name in the same way one would try to calm a frightened animal. The blond hears a brief, deep hum emit from the demon's chest. Any outsider would believe the sound to be a warning, defensive growl.

But Steve knows it is not aimed at him. Bucky is annoyed with _himself_. Though the cadet has no idea why. The blond struggles with the conflicting feelings he holds about the situation. More importantly, the conflicting feelings he has about _Bucky._

The younger man must discover the line between knowledge and something else: trust. At times they intermix... However, right now, the demon clearly doesn't want to reveal certain information, and Steve must learn to accept that.

If he is to see Bucky as an equal.

“Its meaning has been lost,” the demon states. Steve perks up at Bucky's vague words. Although it doesn't tell the blond much, it divulges him in _something._ Even if Steve doesn't understand it.

“Did you get it in the Netherworld?” The younger man asks, voice soft. Low enough so that Bucky can choose to ignore the question; although Steve's eyes practically beg the demon to tell him.

For a moment, Steve doesn't think he will get an answer.

“Yes.” Bucky gives in, for those vibrant and entrancing blue eyes are difficult to resist. Especially when Bucky knows how those eyes darken when under the demon's touch: drowning in utter euphoria.

“Has it lost its meaning because you are here, or because it is old?” Steve questions, curiosity getting the better of him. The blond cannot stop the words from bubbling to the surface, regardless of the demon's expression hardening because of them.

“The reason is not important.” Bucky flicks one hand in the air, as if to emphasise his point. However, Steve is far from convinced.

“But, what of its meaning?”

“It is not a concern.” Bucky declares, though the blond interprets it differently. In a way that suggests the demon does not trust the blond, nor wish to comfort Steve with uncloaking the unknown:

It is not _your_ concern.

“I won't mention it if you tell me. I already promised that,” Steve pleads, though despite his stubbornness, the demon can be as equally unyielding. Even if the blond's headstrong and persistent attitude ignites an unchaste, ardent flame in the demon.

“You do not need to know.” The demon's words echo in the room, signalling the end of the conversation. If the subtle hint is not enough for the blond to understand, their bond is: it hums and vibrates in the most unnerving way. Tugging at the younger man with fierce emotion and _warning._

For a moment -if just for a moment- Steve perceives exactly what Bucky is feeling. Although Steve cannot grasp the true meaning, it is enough for the blond to understand what to do to soothe and settle the demon. Steve's shoulders relax as he takes a tentative step towards Bucky. The blond can hear a deep exhale emit from the demon's chest, visibly mirroring the blond's calm state, arms dropping to the side as he turns to face the smaller man.

“Okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked.” Steve's arms fold, eyes cast to the ground in a gesture of grim embarrassment. Bucky's gaze feels as if it is burning deep hot craters into his skin, and yet his body feels as frozen as a glacier.

“I'll forgive you... if you kiss me.” Bucky grins, expression light and inviting. Steve's breath catches in his throat with relief.

“I'm sure you've used that line on me before, _Bucky,”_ Steve teases as his gaze glides up the demon's form, absorbing all of those strong muscles the blond can almost feel wrapped around his small frame.

“And yet you agree every time.”

“Maybe I shouldn't,” Steve retorts, though they both know the blond doesn't think so- even if it may be true.

“Perhaps.” Bucky shifts so that their bodies are mere inches apart, craning his neck down to lock eyes with the blond. “What's next on your list?”

“Hmm?” Steve's brows raise in confusion.

“You are analysing me, no?”

“Yes...” The cadet answers hesitantly.

“Well?” Bucky presses. Steve is unmoving and silent for a long while, as if thinking over his next actions carefully. But then, the cadet cocks his head to the side and the demon can only see desire in those wondrous blue orbs framed by the darkest of lashes.

“Body type. But I can see that pretty clearly.” Steve grins, swaying closer to place a kiss upon the demon's cheek. Bucky turns his head to capture the blond's pink lips in a sweet kiss, a smile stretched across his mouth as if receiving a great reward.

The pair may be smiling, but a pang of guilt and regret still burns in Steve's chest. Like a virus causing a fever- its painful. Their bond vibrates with unease and Bucky can feel the blond's agitation through it, echoing in the demon's core.

But, in one another's arms, they rest easily.


	14. Your Darkness May Mark You, But It Does Not Make You Who You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Thirteen:  
> **Two low-level electricity class demons attacked a building in New York, the Avengers discussed this strange incident.  
> **Bucky showed Steve his 'mark', the meaning of which has been lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

 

“This is impressive,” Doctor Erskine praises, thick fingers flicking through the pages of the blond's hand-written demon analysis.

“Thank you, sir,” Steve firmly replies. His notes are far more detailed than any other cadet's, and Steve knows this well.

They stand in one of the small rooms of the Knowledge Centre, long table to one side and single-seated chairs to the other. An odd lay-out, or Steve would think so, if the table wasn't so clearly being used to hold mountains of paperwork upon it. A large screen is embedded into the wall by the chairs, and the cadet wonders what kind of meetings -if any- are usually held in the room.

“I can see you worked hard on this. How long did it take you?” Erskine asks, interested in the clear rarities of Steve's demon.

“I did a bit everyday. Well, most nights...” Steve admits, shifting on his feet.

“I admire your determination, cadet.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Although, you didn't write anything about markings.” Erskine's gaze casts upon Bucky, quickly wondering up and down the demon's form once, before staring back at the cadet.

The demon is undeterred and far from intimidated by Erskine. Albeit Bucky does not watch the doctor, choosing instead to survey the room with creased eyes as if in a constant scowl.

If Steve didn't know any better, the demon's lack of a hard gaze upon the other human would suggest Erskine being perceived as a threat. Keeping his eyes off the human in the hope of avoiding a confrontation the demon wouldn't win... But, in this case, Bucky is ignoring Erskine like a buffalo would ignore a fly. A speck of harmless dust not worth the demon's time- a complete contrast to the little blond beside him.

“Oh. Well, there isn't anything to say. So, I left it out...” The lie is told through gritted teeth, and Steve hopes Erskine doesn't seen through the façade. The older man makes a grunting sound, appearing convinced as he scans over the rest of the detailed writing.

“Alright. Just write a small paragraph explaining that and it'll be done.”

“I'll bring it to you tomorrow-” Steve hurriedly begins to say, but the doctor cuts him off with a shake of his head.

“No need to hand it in again, I'm satisfied with the work. Add the extra section in your own time.”

“Yes, sir,” the blond replies, reaching a hand out to take back the document.

“You're very formal, Rogers,” Doctor Erskine states after a moment. Steve looks to him with wide, anxious eyes.

“I-uh,” the cadet hesitates, the doctor's bluntness taking Steve by surprise.

“It's good: shows respect.”

“Thank you, sir...”

“Either of your parents in the army?” Erskine asks, intrigued. Steve has a certain rigidness to his posture that suggests years of being told to sit up straight. Or perhaps, a subconscious choice to make him not seem so tiny against someone of big influence in his life.

“My father was,” the blond replies simply, though a little nervous. Erskine appears more interested in the cadet's past than Steve would like him to be. It feels different than when Bucky questions the blond: as if Steve is far less reluctant to reveal his past to the powerful demon.

“Retired, or?” The doctor leaves the rest of the question open.

“Killed in action, sir.” Steve bites his lower lip in annoyance at the way his voice almost _cracked_ when answering.

“I see. I'm sure he served well,” Erskine replies softly.

Steve merely nods his head in response, the feel of Bucky inches behind him comforts the blond in a way he never thought possible.

“We'll take the blood samples tomorrow. You're not afraid of needles, are you?”

“Not at all, sir.” Steve has seen is fair share to not fear the prick getting under his skin.

“Well, cadets often feel better when the needle goes into their demons, instead of themselves,” Erskine chuckles. The blond laughs awkwardly with him, fingers interlacing in a habit out of his control. “You may go now, send in Stark, won't you?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you.”

Steve turns to walk out, his demon far too close to be deemed appropriate- for Bucky's arm subtly brushes against the the blond's. However, Erskine either doesn't think anything of it, doesn't notice, or perhaps he doesn't even care.

The doctor says nothing of their seemingly intimate behaviour, nor how such a small human ended up bonded with some magnificent being. Though neither demon or cadet register the long, discreet stare Erskine gives them as they slink out the room.

The cadet finds himself feeling more relaxed once the door shuts behind them, barely containing his smile and _relief_ that his analysis passed with a high level of approval.

Tony looks up from where he stands against the wall, and Steve gestures his head towards the room. The other cadet puffs out his cheeks as the air passes through his lips, preparing himself before opening the door. Steve whispers a good-luck to the dark haired man who smirks in response before disappearing inside.

“Where to?” Bucky hums, head turned towards the cadet as if he is the most appealing creature on the earth.

“I'm not sure. The rest of the afternoon is our own,” Steve tells his demon as they stroll out of the Knowledge Centre.

The air is cool but calm around them, merely a gentle breeze ruffles the ends of Steve's hair. The ground is still wet from the rain that morning, causing little _splat splat_ sounds as their feet hit the layer of mud beneath them from the trucks.

“Meaning?”

“We can do what we want.”

“Mmm, sounds good to me.” Bucky's eyes are far too wild to be innocent.

“If by going to the Gym to work out, then sure.”

“There are other ways to _work out_ that don't involve going there,” Bucky teases, though Steve knows the demon's intentions are serious with the goal of following pleasure.

“Oh really?” Steve raises a brow, the corner of his mouth raised in a lop-sided grin.

“Mhm. Why don't I show you?” Bucky lures, smile as bright as the spark in those silver orbs.

“Why don't we go to the Gym?” Steve counters. The demon sighs in mock disappointment, only to grab the cadet's hand to run his thumb over prominent knuckles and slender fingers. Steve stares at the demon from the corner of his eye, but does not pull away- waiting until the demon releases his grip barely a moment later.

Bucky stays silent, walking beside the blond as they make their way to the Gym. Despite the cadet staring up at the demon with confused, and yet longing eyes, Bucky does not meet his gaze. Albeit, there is a pleased smile amongst the dark strands of hair that frame his face.

“That human liked your work,” the demon comprehends.

Humans are easy to read, and Steve's emotional state only aids in determining their significance to others. If the blond becomes nervous, Bucky is more attentive to the being who caused those unpleasant sensations: figuring them out. Sizing them up.

Only to end up discarding them from his mind as being irrelevant.

Although Bucky does not see humans as a threat, he finds himself always figuring out what they mean to _Steve._ Whether the human wishes to become closer to the blond, or if they are simply a passing influence with no real impact to his or the blond's existence.

The one reason why Bucky takes the time to analyse and perceive humans, even when the demon _knows_ they can do him no harm... the potential change they may cause in the cadet has the demon constantly agitated.

This kind of _thinking..._ while it may technically be very logical, and completely necessary in its own way... can only be summed up as _possessiveness._

Steve already knows this from the Halloween incident, though he does not know of its intensity, for it is well hidden. Like a black, entangled forest hidden by heavy white mist or unreachable by a motionless, bottomless ocean.

“That's because you are so interesting,” the blond replies, honesty evident in his voice.

“You find me interesting?” Bucky questions, teasingly with an amused smile.

“It is hard not to be fascinated by your...” Steve trails off, a little unsure of exactly what it is he wants to say.

“My what?” The demon presses, coaxing an answer from the younger man's silence.

“Everything... I guess.” Steve blushes with embarrassment, which only fuels the demon's cocky attitude.

“You desire me.” Bucky smirks, almost challengingly.

“I desire to learn more.” Steve's shoulders roll back, pushing out his chest with his chin held high as if that could express the smaller man's certainty.

“About me.”

“You are my demon,” Steve answers, as if that could explain everything: all of his feelings and every one of his actions. But, the blond knows he would still have the burning need that grows in his chest whether Bucky was his demon or not. Like a fire that burns on knowledge and is only inflamed by the demon's mere presence.

“You were troubled,” Bucky states out of the blue. The demon is perceptive and his intrepid nature often results in Steve's mind (and sometimes _emotions)_ becoming a haze of confusion.

“Troubled?” The blond repeats.

“When the man spoke of your father.”

“I guess I'm just not ready to talk about it with others yet.” Steve admits, shrugging as if its no big deal, even when it feels as if his lungs are being crushed.

“Your emotions were different when you told me about him.”

“I trust you not to judge me.”

“I judge you,” Bucky confesses, as if his words are of no real importance: it's just a statement. But, it is the truth. The demon has no reason to feed the blond lies, nor does he wish for Steve to have a mistaken understanding of his actions.

“What?” It feels as if Steve's heart skips a beat. His breath catches in his throat as his eyes widen in disbelief. The younger man's blood vessels feel as if they should be frozen solid, for the blond feels icy cold. But then, the demon turns to look at him with the warmest of smiles. That warmth only transfers and grows with the demon's next words.

“You are a good soldier who watches out for others. These are desirable characteristics in humans.” Bucky declares, matter of factly. If any outsider were to hear their conversation, they would see the demon's words as being _detached._ Void of all emotions. But, this is not the case.

The demon's words mean more to Steve than Bucky could ever imagine, for the blond can feel the sensations that link and entwine with them. It's a glimpse at something that is hard to reach, and Steve sees it as clearly as gems glimmering upon a cave wall.

Bucky believes that the younger man is strong, that he is caring and full of courage to protect the innocent. Although the demon has said this before, its _different._

Something has _changed._

Their relationship, although steady, is constantly altering. With each reveal of new information, acceptance undoubtedly occurs and their bond only strengthens because of it.

“Thanks,” Steve mutters, unsure how to take the compliment, but smiling from it nonetheless.

“You are also very zygu.” Bucky grins, humming as if in agreement with himself.

“Zae-geoo? What does that mean?” Knowing demon's have their own language has taught Steve to listen more carefully for words he doesn't recognise. Especially when those unknown words will come from his demon's lips.

“I'm not sure of the word in your language.”

“Well, that's helpful. I have no idea if you're complimenting, or insulting me,” Steve huffs, though his irritation quickly fades away when Bucky leans down to whisper into the cadet's ear:

“It is a good thing.”

“Can you at least describe it to me then?” Steve pleads.

“It means you are exciting, irresistible and _arousing,”_ Bucky says it in the most entrancing way; deep and huskily, practically vibrating off his chest as his eyes lock onto the blond's.

Steve has to stifle a squeak at Bucky's words. His pink cheeks darken with the boldness of the statement and the unmistakable intentions behind it.

Bucky's expression is full of _hunger_ and complacency, right up until the moment they pass two soldiers when entering the Gym. Bucky's face becomes as emotionless as any other demon's in the facility.

How quickly Bucky's behaviour can change is startling.

But one thing remains the same: the demon stays by the cadet's side.

The little touches and looks that occur between them never fail to overcome anxiety and panicked, vexed thoughts. The blond doesn't believe he will ever be truly angry at his demon, nor could Bucky ever be resentful of the onslaught of questions Steve has. The sensation of their auras mixing... the heated, virtuous touches of a firm body caressing a pale, silk-like form is never anything but pure bliss.

“You're not _serious,_ are you?” Steve squeaks, his voice low as they walk through one of the many corridors that make up the Gym.

“I am. But, if you don't believed me, you will later,” Bucky promises, grinning devilishly at the younger man.

“It that a threat?” The blond raises a brow in amusement, though his cheeks remain flushed.

“It is a proposition, _my little warrior.”_

        

The water cascading down from the shower head is warmer than usual, and Steve relishes in how is muscles relax under the flow. The cadet may have pushed himself too far in the weight room, and now his arms ache as they pay for that mistake. Steve had refused Bucky's help in aiding him to lift more, though he did not reject the demon's hands that had planted on his thighs.

“ _Steve,”_ Bucky coos softly, calling out his name with no real purpose but to say it.

“Mm?” Steve hums, hands tugging through his hair as he washes the shampoo from it. It would be a lie to say Bucky doesn't love the way the blond's shoulders move and how his back arches with every motion.

“Nothing, just enjoying myself.”

“You better not be looki-” The blond begins, angling his head to check on the demon.

His gaze is met with a seductive grin as he finds Bucky leaning against the stall door, his intentions and thoughts nothing but obvious. The demon's eyes solely focus on the smooth frame before him, imagining his hands trailing between soft thighs and gripping onto sharp hips. The demon can almost hear the cadet's moans echoing in his ears.

The way Bucky _watches_ him... It makes Steve want to squirm and hide away, but, he can't find the motivation to tear apart their locked stares. The younger man's body can only respond with a rosy blush that spreads from his cheeks to across his chest. Like pink petals cast onto a clear lake- they gather and create the prettiest of pictures. Or at least, that's what Bucky thinks.

“Pass me a towel,” Steve instructs, switching off the water. Droplets of cooling liquid descend along his skin, making little _drip drip_ noises as they hit the floor.

Steve hears the heavy footsteps of Bucky walking away and the gentle shuffling of material as he grabs a towel. However, when the blond turns to take the towel the demon is standing much further away than Steve can reach.

“Bucky,” the cadet says sternly.

“I have a towel for you.” Bucky holds out the towel in front of his fully clothed form as if to emphasise his point. Steve sees the exact moment those eyes turn silver with passion and _lust._ “Come get it.”

It's a _challenge._

Steve frowns, folding his arms in defiance. Bucky's grin only widens.

It's a _game._

“Bucky...” Steve whines, despite his skin cooling and wanting to desperately dry himself... a little part of the cadet jumps with excitement. The feel of their bond vibrating and contracting, tugging and throbbing with their combined emotions has Steve almost breathless.

“I'll close my eyes,” the demon bargains.

“I'm not naïve enough to think that they'll stay closed,” Steve scoffs, body hidden by the gate as he smiles at the demon. Bucky chuckles at the blond's reply.

“I'll make a deal with you then.”

“Oh, really? Will I like what you have to offer?” Steve teases.

“Perhaps.” Bucky pauses before continuing. “I'll pass you this towel, if, I get a kiss in return.”

“You don't have to make an excuse to get me to kiss you,” Steve says seriously, his tone empty of any mockery.

“Will you kiss me if there isn't a reason?” Bucky asks, his expression losing the cockiness that had been previously blatant.

“There will always be a reason,” the blond replies honestly.

Steve kisses Bucky because he _enjoys_ kissing the demon. Although the blond may take that knowledge to his grave, what better reason is there? Bucky makes Steve feel _good._ Although the blond's mind tears and shreds thinking over how wrong it should be... The fact that Steve still wants to press his lips against the demon's remains continuously true.

Bucky seems to ponder this for a moment. Steve is sure his blush has gotten even darker, for the blond can feel the warmth radiating and pulsing under his skin.

The demon walks closer, and before Steve can even comprehend what's happening, Bucky is stepping into the shower stall with him. The younger man is barely able to voice his surprise as Bucky wraps the towel around his waist. Only then does the demon align his body with the blond's as he pulls him into a warm embrace.

Bucky's arms feel strange against his wet skin, but no less welcomed. They trail along his back as if searching for something, but Steve knows it's just the mere touch they both crave.

The smaller man stretches up onto his tiptoes to bury his nose into the demon's neck, breathing in the distinct scent. Steve places a light kiss upon Bucky's throat, before leaning back to take the demon's face between his palms. Bucky arches into the touch, allowing the blond to guide his lips down to meet Steve's own.

The rattling of old pipes almost drown out the sound of their mouths moving together in gentle synchrony. Their kiss is tender and filled with untold promises. When the blond breaks away, Bucky chases after and captures his lips once more. But, this time, it's needy and soon turns into a kiss so desperate that Steve struggles for breath.

The younger man gasps the demon's name and Bucky swallows it with a firm press of his lips and a swipe of his tongue. Steve is very aware that they could be caught at any moment, and it weighs heavy on his mind like a warning beacon. The cadet reluctantly tries to pull apart their kiss, but fails when one of the demon's hands glide up to the nape of his neck.

Steve's fingers ghost across the demon's covered chest, planting firmly on his pectorals, using his hands to push them apart. Bucky's exterior appears as calm and collected as always, albeit his eyes tell a different story. The demon's hands disappear from the cadet's slim waist to wrap around his thin wrists.

The blond can feel something akin to disappointment radiating through their bond, and can only assume it's a glimpse of Bucky's emotions. Steve feels regret at the loss of wet lips sliding against his own. However, it may be for the best: the blond cannot allow them to be seen.

He cannot allow anyone to witness him losing himself to the demon's fervorous embrace and sweet lips. Becoming lost in their entwining auras and the bond that will surely result in sensations Steve never thought he would experience.

“Not here,” the blond pants.

“In your room, then?” Bucky smirks, the hands wrapped around the cadet's wrists loosen as they wonder up pale arms.

“No. Well, yes. I don't know. No,” Steve fumbles over his words.

“No?” The demon takes one step forward, becoming barely inches away from the blond.

“I brought some food for your from the cafeteria, you need to eat that,” Steve weakly justifies.

“I have something else on my mind that I would like to eat.” Bucky ducks his head to quickly nip at the blond's exposed throat. When Steve gasps at the unexpected pressure, Bucky can't help but leave a kiss upon the rosy skin there.

“I'm serious, I'm going to be taking your blood tomorrow.” The blond attempts to push the demon away again, but Bucky refuses to move.

“You can have as much as you like, I have plenty of it.” The demon kisses the blond's throat once more, feeling the vein pulsate against his lips. The damp warmth of Steve's skin mixed with the blond's unique _taste_ has the demon pulling the blond impossibly closer.

“ _Bucky-”_ Steve moans, unable to restrain his voice. His abdomen is fluttering and pooling with a flaring heat that only seems to flood lower with his increasing arousal.

“Taking a little bit of my blood wont do me any harm, Steve,” Bucky whispers, nuzzling against the blond's ear in an attempt to distract him- to make him fall completely apart under his persistent touch. “I'm not human.”

“I-I know.” Steve curses himself for being so nervous: for worrying. He knows Bucky's blood will replenish itself in seconds, and yet he cannot stop agonising that something will go wrong.

Bucky is a demon.

A demon who does not share Steve's weaknesses, nor any demon's at the academy. Bucky's level means his self-healing capabilities are high, but that does not settle the gut-wrenching feeling Steve seems to have.

There is no logic to the cadet's troubled thinking- perhaps it is a subconscious concern. Nevertheless, Steve can't shake it.

“ _Steve.”_ Bucky leaves a final kiss upon the shell of the younger man's ear, before pulling back to stare into blue eyes.

“I still want you to eat the fruit though,” Steve mutters stubbornly.

“Mm. I'll eat it,” Bucky agrees, metal arm slipping around the cadet's waist, fingers curling to dip ever so slightly under the fabric at his hip.

“You better eat it.” The blond leans into the demon's muscular figure.

“Of course, it is a gift from you.” Bucky's other arm wraps firmly around Steve's upper-back, intentionally pulling the blond's chest against his own. The younger man's hands automatically glide up to the demon's shoulders.

“I know it doesn't do anything. I know it won't make you stronger or anything...” The blond averts his gaze, choosing to stare at the demon's collarbone.

“It is appreciated regardless,” Bucky says softly, craning his neck to meet the cadet's lips for a fleeting moment, though their smiles make it difficult to do so. “That is the phrase, is it not?”

“It's close enough,” Steve giggles. “Now, let me get dressed.”

Bucky chuckles under his breath, leaving the cadet's presence briefly to gather his clean clothes from the sink. When the demon returns and hands the blond his clothes, Steve mutters a quiet _'thank you'_ and turns around to change. The demon leans his back against the door as he waits for the cadet to finish.

Steve knows the demon watches him from the corner of his eye every so often, but the blond doesn't call him out on it. Rather, his pink cheeks merely fail to fade back to their usual hue.

        

“Try to collect around a thousand millilitres of blood, either from the arm or the jugular vein as shown in the video,” Doctor Erskine instructs, gesturing to the empty vials on the side as the electronic screen turns black behind him.

The lab is cold and filled with little metal tables with medical equipment presented neatly upon them. Beside each table are two stools for the cadets and their demons to sit on.

“Don't we need a license to do this?” Sam asks, more than a little concerned.

The last thing any of them expected was to be _literally_ taking their demon's blood samples.

“Not to do this with demons, no,” Erskine answers quickly, as if he's used to constantly receiving that question. “Any other enquiries before you begin?”

The room becomes eerily quiet, possibly at the rather large needles being presented to them in the doctor's grasp. Erskine looks once around the room before waving his hand to dismiss the cadets. They all immediately turn to grab a set of vials each and situate their demons at the tables.

“A thousand millilitres is a lot,” Steve murmurs to Sam, who finally gets his demon to settle down atop the chair.

“Is it?” Sam questions, his voice low.

“Yeah. Blood donations are usually only five hundred millilitres,” the blond informs him, giving Bucky a brief look as his eyes glance over the clear vials hes suppose to fill with his demon's blood. Bucky sits patiently opposite the cadet, their knees ever so slightly knocking against one another.

“So why are we taking so much?” Sam frowns, attempting to take the cap off his needle.

“Their blood replenishes quickly, right?” Bruce interjects. The three cadets are reasonably close together in the tightly packed room, which only means their hushed worries are kept amongst themselves.

Steve nods his head in response, though it does nothing to quench their curiosity. The blond fiddles with the needle, the feel of it strange in the palm of his hand rather than being wedged into his skin. Steve attempts to roll up the demon's right sleeve, but Bucky's fingers grace along his own and tugs the fabric himself.

Steve gazes up at the demon to find an expressionless face, except his eyes... his eyes show nothing but a smile just for the blond. However, Steve is nervous: one look at the demon's arm and the cadet knows he will struggle to find the vein that seems so deeply embedded into Bucky's flesh.

The cadet would try the other arm, except... well, its _metal._ Steve inwardly groans, unsure what to do next. The blond doesn't want to draw the blood from Bucky's neck- for it would feel as if he was taking blood from an animal. But, Steve doesn't have much of a choice.

The demon instantly senses the cadet's hesitance and easily comprehends the situation. Without thinking, Bucky angles his head, exposing his throat to the younger man in an act of submissive-like behaviour. Steve is taken aback for a moment, before he is able to fully compose himself. Their eyes meet for a long moment before the blond shuffles closer, thighs slipping between the demon's in the most discreet way he can manage.

Steve quietly mutters an apology as he leans to brush away the dark strands of hair that tickle along Bucky's neck. The younger man's fingers firmly rest at the top of Bucky's throat, feeling the vein pulsating gently under his touch. A few seconds later Steve has the needle carefully pressing against the demon's vein, its metallic tip slightly darker than the rest. The skin resists breaking under the needle, but as Steve pushes a little harder, it finally gives way.

Almost immediately, blue liquid seeps out into the attached glass vial. The blood is deep, vibrant and thick. Steve feels likes he looking into the ocean's depths. As the cadet watches the vial quickly fill, he notices the little dark particles in the blood. The flecks are almost black in colour and only add a certain beauty to the blood's seemingly complex composition.

Just before the vial becomes completely full, Steve detaches it from the needle and replaces it with an empty one. Bucky watches the blond's face: the biting of his lower lip and how his eyes crease in concentration. It's oddly endearing and the demon can't help but stare, even when blue eyes cast a glance into his own.

Steve smiles at catching Bucky watching him so intently, and switches out the vials again. Each of the blood-filled vials are carefully placed back onto the table, gleaming under the artificial light of the lab.

“You okay?” Steve whispers. The cadet is sure he has reached over five hundred millilitres by this point, yet the demon shows no sign of weakness. If Bucky was human, he would surely be showing fatigue from the minor blood loss.

The demon makes a low humming noise in response, quiet enough so that only Steve will hear it. The only discomfort Bucky feels is the pressure of the needle embedded into his skin, but the demon merely focuses on the warm, slender fingers at his pulse point.

When the last vial is filled and sealed on the table, Steve steadily removes the needle, immediately replacing it with a piece of cotton. It's barely a second later that Bucky's fingers are encasing the blond's wrist and gently pulling it away.

Steve isn't sure what his demon is doing, until his notices the white cotton pad... with not even a speck of blood tainting it. The blond had expected at least a drop of blue... but instead he ended up underestimating Bucky's rapid healing abilities. Or perhaps it was his natural instinct that got the better of him.

The demon watches the faint blush of embarrassment emerging across pale cheeks, just as the cadet awkwardly places the pad back onto the table.

“Once you have finished collecting your demon's blood, label and place the samples into the specialised centrifuges in the next room. They will be left overnight and analysis can begin tomorrow,” Erskine instructs, walking around the room, giving each cadet a pen as he does so.

“I thought they would be ready in a few hours.” Tony frowns, gathering his vials.

“With our new technology, that is possible. However, we are doing it the old fashioned way,” the doctor confesses, smiling as if in great joy.

Tony (the tech-obsessed cadet that he is) doesn't seem too fond of this- if his barely contained grimace is anything to go by.

Soon enough, the labelled vials are spinning around in specialised machines and the cadets are ushered out of the labs. Their faces are instantly greeted by a darkened sky and the sun that struggles to shine through the grey clouds high above them. Rain drops caress their skin but it only ends in their clothes becoming soaked as the rain falls more heavily upon them.

The cadets -once dry and somewhat warm- spend the afternoon between the Gym and the Knowledge Centre. Steve desperately tries to increase the strength in his arms, though the obvious lack of muscles forming has the blond more frustrated than ever.

Of course, these things take time. Steve knows this. And yet... no matter the patience he may have, above all, he is stubborn and constantly _restless._ Being a part of the academy is Steve's dream, but he cannot help feeling so small against everything else around him.

However, when Bucky stands beside him, wraps his arms around him... Steve doesn't feel like being small is a bad thing. In fact, never would he admit it, but he loves the sensation of being completely consumed by his demon's touch. Like the world that is in chaos around them is a whole universe away... and when Bucky kisses him, it feels even further.

        

“Move,” Steve commands, waving Bucky off of the bed. The blond holds up the corner of the mattress to grab his father's journal. The leather fabric is cold in his hands, but nevertheless, it is comforting to have a piece of his father with him. Even if it is a grim reminder of how cold his father must be in the earth.

Steve perches himself in the chair of his desk, just as Bucky slides back onto the bed in an almost obscene stretch.

“What are you looking for?” Bucky asks, watching the cadet furiously turning the pages of the journal.

“Notes on blood,” the blond automatically replies, brows furrowing as his eyes scan the yellowed pages. “I want to rewrite them for tomorrow.”

As soon as Steve finds the page with a glass vial sketched onto it, he leans over the desk, pen in one hand, the other keeping the journal open. The cadet writes for what feels like hours, his hand begins to ache and his eyes get blurry every now and then.

A little part of Steve wants to give up on the work and go to sleep. But, that part of the blond is insignificant and has no chance of beating the perfectionist, stubborn streak that ultimately forms his core being.

When the night takes over the sky -not that Steve showed any sign of noticing- his demon wonders over and stands behind the blond. Bucky watches the words forming from the dark ink streaming from the pen tip. Observing blank sheets of paper being filled with curly writing that suggest a personality quite different to the blond's. The cadet's handwriting is curved and inviting, quite a contrast to Steve's strong-willed attitude. Bucky ultimately finds this amusing.

But, not as amusing as the blond's soft snores echoing in the room. Steve's head rests against the desk and his pen rolls until it hits the edge of the journal: lost from slender fingers.

Bucky chooses not to awaken the blond. Instead, the demon carefully slips an arm under the cadet's thigh, whilst the other wraps around his slim waist. The hold effectively hoists the blond against the demon's chest, keeping him close as Steve's head gently falls onto Bucky's shoulder.

The demon slowly carries him to the bed, making sure to not disturb the blond's slumber. As Bucky lowers them under the covers, Steve's fingers reach out to subconsciously find the demon's presence. Bucky can't help but smile, eyes full of endearment at the action, arms wrapping tightly around the blond's waist so that Steve can settle into the crook of Bucky's shoulder. Their bodies easily mould together like two pieces of a perfect puzzle: as if this is how they are meant to rest, in one another's arms.

The demon can feel Steve's heart beating quietly against his ribs...

He listens to the sound all night long.


	15. The Darkness, For Some, Can Be Their Salvation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Fourteen:  
> **Steve handed in his analysis on Bucky.  
> **Avengers took blood samples from their demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

****Darkness, at times, can be breathtakingly beautiful. Because darkness never fails to reveal the beauty of something else...

The stars glimmering in space, or crystals shinning in a cave. Even the shards of silver light from the moon.

Darkness. It allows one to see the light that is all around them.

But, the rest of the time the shadows become something to fear. They hide the things that stalk in the night and ultimately, it is filled with nothing but the unknown.

No one knows what lies in the shadows.

Not until the light creeps in and exposes every one of its crevices.

So, why doesn't the light bring relief when the shadows are so thick, so strong that they practically choke the life out of anything that dares try to live?

Why is there no light to illuminate the eyes that stare at Steve from the darkness?

It's the same dream again. The shadows have enveloped Steve's vision like a fire igniting all around him. Those blue, glowing eyes watch him from afar.

Except... the dream is also _different._

His hands are damp from sweat, not blood. His whole body feels as if it is on _fire_ , like the shadows are _burning_ him... and yet, it doesn't _hurt_.

But, as the blue eyes seemingly draw closer, the sound of wings are nowhere to be found. Just the echo of his own uneven breaths in his ears, and the ringing that only ever occurs in complete silence.

Steve attempts to step closer to those eyes, but a firm grip on his wrist prevents him. The blond turns to the hand upon his skin, gazing up to meet a familiar face. His demon's touch has Steve's rapid heart coming to a slow _thump_ _thump_ in his chest. Steve opens his mouth to ask about the creature in the shadows. But he barely has the chance to begin before Bucky suddenly, and yet so very gently, tugs him forward to allow their lips to meet.

All at once, Steve is lost to the darkness.

      

The blond awakens with a start: eyes wide and for a split second, Steve finds it difficult to breathe. It takes a moment for the cadet to realise where he is, but when he does, he sighs in utter relief. Bucky's chest expands against him with every inhale, and Steve knows the demon must be awake. The blond says nothing, and neither does Bucky as the younger man shifts further into the demon's bare chest. Bucky's warmth radiates and soaks the cadet in a sensation that can only be described as _safety._

The dream repeats in Steve's mind, replaying those blue eyes staring back so intently. No matter how much thought the cadet puts into it, he cannot figure out who those eyes they belong to. They are not familiar, far from it. They bring nothing but the feeling of dread and _death._

Yet, Steve longs to know what being lurks in the darkness behind them- if it is any creature at all. But perhaps, the dream is nothing but his subconscious at work: showing the worries that eat away at his mind and the demon he yearns for.

Steve's eyes slip closed again, his breathing becoming softer, steadier, whilst his mind ponders all of the questions he is yet to get the answers to. However, the cadet barely has enough time to rectify the chaos of his thoughts before his alarm disrupts the silence of the room.

The blond reaches his hand out into the morning darkness to stop the repetitive _beep beep beep beep_ of his alarm. The cadet had changed the setting to earlier than usual, wanting to begin analysing the blood samples before anyone else.

Steve rubs his sleepy eyes with one hand as he uses the other to lift himself into a sitting position. But, he doesn't get very far. Bucky's arms are wrapped around him tightly and only pull him back against the demon's chest when Steve tries to break free from the embrace.

“Bucky, come on, it's time to get up.” Steve tries to twist from the demon's hold, but when the arms against his waist make no effort to move, the blond finds himself abandoning the fight.

Bucky smirks as he feels the younger man relax into his hold. The demon takes the chance to press a kiss to the nape of Steve's neck. The action takes Steve by surprise and the blond is at the complete mercy of the demon who trails little nips and kisses at whatever skin the shirt doesn't hide. The blond is so caught up with the kisses upon his neck, that he fails to register one of Bucky's hands sliding underneath the fabric of his nightshirt.

“D-don't!” Steve stutters, hands desperately trying to find the demon's wrists.

“No one else is awake yet,” Bucky whispers into the cadet's ear. The demon's warm breath has the blond shivering with want. Bucky's hand glides up the blond's smooth chest, inadvertently pulling the fabric of the shirt with it, exposing Steve's stomach to the cool air.

“If someone hears us...” Steve whispers back, turning his head to meet the demon's lustful gaze.

“They wont,” Bucky reassures. The non-metallic arm that rests underneath the cadet keeps him close with the fingers that caress the skin at Steve's hip. The demon cannot prevent the smirk that creeps its way onto his face when his voice lowers seductively with his next words. “If you can keep your moans down.”

“Bucky!” The blond squeals, his cheeks instantly reddening from embarrassment.Albeit a little part of him jumps with excitement at the words.

“Indulge me, just for a little bit,” Bucky hums, peppering his lips along Steve's ear down and across his jaw to leave a single kiss upon the blond's lips.

“ _Bucky... I-”_ Steve can't quite manage to finish his sentence. The cadet is so unsure of himself; of what he wants. Even if what he wants is so obvious to his heart, his mind can't seem to grasp it.

“You don't want to?” Bucky asks tenderly, analysing the cadet's nervous expression and the way his eyes look at everything but at the demon's.

Steve feels so soft under the palm of his hands that the demon doesn't want to, but he releases his hold ever so slightly. If the blond decides to run, the demon will allow it- just this once.

“Yes. Wait, no. We can't-” Steve pauses as their eyes meet again. The younger man doesn't understand what he sees in that untamed gaze, nevertheless it makes his knees feel weak. It makes Steve want to hold onto the demon and never let go. It makes his pulse erratic and his body _ache._ Because, for one moment... For just one moment, Steve swears he sees some emotion akin to _yearning._ The kind Steve had never expected to witness in those silver orbs. All at once, the blond feels his resolve fade into something entirely different. A desire without any fear. “Ah, _fuck it._ ”

Steve immediately leans over Bucky to press their lips together in a fierce kiss. It's desperate and needy, and they melt against the touch of the other. Their chests align as the blond practically falls on top of the demon, their legs tangling in a haze of certainty.

Pale, slender fingers cup the demon's face, only to slide up to catch and knot in dark strands. Bucky's arms lock around the cadet's waist, pulling him down to grind their hips together in an ardent haste. Steve moans at the friction the movement provides, even if the blond wants nothing more than the clothing that prevents their from skin connecting to disappear.

But, it isn't long until Bucky takes control. The demon, in one fluid motion, guides the cadet to rest on his back against the mattress. Bucky quickly takes the end of Steve's shirt between his fingers, tugging the fabric up and over the blond's head with ease. Steve gasps at the loss of the smooth slide and press of their lips and grips the demon's shoulders to pull them flush together once more.

Bucky can feel a low growl resonating from his own chest at the blond's distinct avidity. The sensation of Steve's nails digging into the flesh of his back and the little soft moans the younger man can't contain is nothing short of _thrilling._

“Ah! Bucky!” Steve gasps when the demon's hips jerk ever so slightly against him. The blond is embarrassed at how hard he has become already, even just with the gentle rutting of their bodies. But he can also feelthat he is not the only one so aroused.

“Shh, _my little warrior,”_ Bucky coos, one hand brushing the younger man's hair from his eyes. The demon can see himself in the reflection of those blue orbs framed with the most delicate of lashes.

“Feels good,” the blond manages to mutter quietly against the demon's lips.

“Yeah? I'll make you feel even better.” The demon smirks, pulling down the blond's sweatpants to reveal smooth, enticing thighs.

“Mmm.” Steve moans at the feel of Bucky's hands tracing tenderly against his skin. They run over his chest to caress his sides, only then to firmly plant themselves at the sharp curves of Steve's hips.

“Is this okay?” Bucky asks, thumbs hooked under the fabric of Steve's underwear. With a tentative nod of his head, it is the only confirmation Bucky needs. The younger man arches his hips off of the mattress and Bucky slips the clothing from his skin.

Steve is quiet as Bucky's lips ghost across his chest, planting kisses across it and nipping at the skin between his teeth. The demon feels the younger man's anxiousness through their bond, which vibrates with a certain unease. Bucky glances up to find the blond biting his lower lip, eyes full of a burning want, and yet his heart beats in time with every one of his worries.

“Hey,” Bucky soothes, brushing golden strands of hair from the younger man's face once more. The demon waits until Steve finally meets his gaze, before pressing a single kiss upon his forehead. “I'll make you feel so good, Steve,” the demon sincerely whispers, stroking the blond's rosy cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

It's a promise.

Not that either of them realise it, but still... it is a promise.

The blond lets out a deep sigh that transforms into a moan as Bucky firmly presses his mouth to the vein of Steve's neck. The demon can feel it pulsating under his lips; tasting the sweetness of Steve's skin upon his tongue as he caresses the marred area.

But then, Bucky moves lower: to the blond's protruding collarbone, his smooth ribs, to jutting hips and eventually, Steve's moans turn into little high pitched whines. The demon's mouth upon him has the cadet feeling too warm. So hot, that the cooling wet patches Bucky leaves behind do nothing to settle the fire growing in his stomach.

Bucky shuffles to settle between the cadet's thighs, metallic hand lifting one of the blond's legs to rest at an angle, foot against the mattress with his knee adjacent to the demon's shoulder. The movement makes Steve feel exposed, his thighs automatically trying to close the gap, but Bucky doesn't let him move so much as an inch.

The demon is so close that Steve can feel his warm breath ghosting his hardened cock. He blushes at the moan that catches in his throat, for the demon's silver eyes tell him he can hear it- not matter how much Steve tries to contain the sound.

The blond feels so vulnerable, his hands clenching into the sheets as he tenses: not out of fear... but in anticipation.

“Do you want this?” Bucky asks softly. Steve shivers as the words caress the skin of his thighs. The sensation of their auras entwining and mixing into an indiscriminate mist of black and amber flecks... it's almost overwhelming.

But it feels so _right._

“Yes...please...” Steve says, completely breathless. The demon's gaze seems to light up at the blond's confession. Bucky scans down the cadet's form before turning his head to the side, lips placing themselves at Steve's inner thigh. The blond gasps, heat pooling with every little suck and bite upon the sensitive skin.

“Yeah?” Bucky hums, leaning up just enough to curve one arm under the blond's leg, planting his hand at the very top of Steve's thigh while the other glides to rest against his abdomen.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, slowly relaxing into the demon's touch. Its gentle and yet firm and does nothing but give Steve pleasure and fight away his anxiety. Their bond is already humming and vibrating in approval of their intimacy. The younger man blushes, his skin pale with rosy patches of heated flesh as the demon breathes him in.

Steve smells _so good._

Like blossoming flowers and the rain after a storm. Its refreshing and sweet and the demon wants nothing more than to taste him on his tongue.

The blond inhales sharply when the demon licks a firm stripe along his reddened cock. Bucky's actions are teasing, waiting an almost painfully long moment before pressing a kiss to the very tip of Steve's erection. The demon glances up to find lustful eyes half closed and watching his every move in eager anticipation.

Bucky has to suppress a confident smirk as he takes the head of Steve's cock into his mouth. The blond throws his head back against the pillow with an uncontrolled moan at the sensation of utter pleasure that washes through him. Bucky's mouth is warm, wet and teasing, and Steve is quickly losing himself to the haze of desire that clouds his mind.

The demon moans as he slowly takes the whole of Steve's length into his mouth, bobbing his head in a steady rhythm. The vibrations echoing up from Bucky's throat has the blond becoming a gasping mess under the demon's unyielding hands.

It's a sensation Steve never thought he would experience. Bucky not only pushes him to his limits... he throws him off the edge and gives him pleasure Steve had only ever dreamt of.

“ _Ah. Ah. Ah.”_ The blond can't restrain his high-pitched moans; his cock is hard and aching against Bucky's tongue and his entire body is filled to the brim with the best feeling heat.

Steve's hand clenches as he brings his knuckles towards his lips in an effort to contain the gasps that escape him. But that does little to stop the blond's hips bucking up into the warmth of Bucky's mouth, despite the hands upon his body keeping him still.

Steve whines his demon's name as his other hand slides from the sheets, earning a deep and prolonged moan from Bucky when his fingers tangle and grip onto the thick dark strands atop the demon's head.

The younger man's cock brushes against the back of Bucky's throat as his nose nuzzles against the thin hairs at its base. The taste of pre-come is salty, and yet Steve's skin makes it seem so much sweeter- as if the demon is tasting the blond's literal pleasure on his tongue.

Bucky pulls back just slightly, cheeks hollowing as Steve's hips jolt and jerk underneath him. The hand in his hair tugs and grips but the demon far from minds the blond falling completely apart beneath him, especially when he is the one causing him to cry out so beautifully.

As Bucky's movements quicken, sparks of pleasure ignite in Steve's stomach until the electrifying energy surges through him entirely. The younger man's mind becomes foggy, with only a single name repeating with every muffled breath against his whitened knuckles.

_Bucky._

_Bucky._

_Bucky._

It's not a moment later that the blond's back is arching and his body begins to shake with his orgasm. Bucky moans as he swallows the blond's warm release without so much as a thought. Steve is slightly mortified with the demon's bold actions. Or, he would be, if the haze of coming so recently wasn't clouding his judgement.

The sound of the blond panting is like music to the demon's ears as he allows Steve's pink, softening cock to fall from his lips. The younger man grabs onto the demon's shoulders, as if that could calm his racing heart. Steve is utterly breathless and his skin has become flushed with the most gorgeous shade- practically glowing in the morning sun's early rays.

Bucky crawls up the blond's body to place a kiss upon his parted lips. Steve cranes his neck to deepen their kiss, though finds himself squinting at the faint taste of himself on his demon's tongue. Bucky hums as their lips move lazily together, taking their time as the blond gradually comes down from his climax.

The demon hovers over the cadet's slim form, shadowing his frame as his hands press next to the blond's sides to balance himself. Steve breaks their kiss to look into Bucky's eyes, arms looping around the demon's neck to keep him close.

“That was...” Steve trails off, unsure how to describe their intimacy without his blush darkening a deeper shade of red- if at all possible.

The intimate acts between them, are much more of a bigger deal to Steve than he will ever admit to anyone, including himself. Bucky is always confident, unabashed and seemingly... _experienced._ The demon knows how to make Steve shudder with pleasure and moan in ecstasy. The cadet, on the other hand, is out of his depth.

That's not to say that Steve is naïve as to where intimate acts ultimately, and inevitably, lead to. The blond knows and _understands_ the _end goal_ , but that does not mean he can't be any less nervous about it. That also doesn't mean he can't desire it.

They haven't gone 'all the way' ~~yet~~ but the idea of Bucky having sex with someone else -even if far in the past- causes a sharp pain to arise in his gut and an ache in his heart. The blond doesn't want to be compared to someone else- even if that being may be far from human.

_But, surely Bucky has... right?_

_Had sex with a woman? With another man?_

_With neither or both or..._

_Did Bucky like it? Did they do it more than once, or did Bucky cast them away after one night?_

Steve disregards the persistent thoughts: none of that matters. Not now, and not ever. Bucky may be his demon, but he is not a creature whose body he can claim. Despite Bucky's possessive nature (particularly where the blond is concerned)the cadet finds it more difficult to discover that part of himself.

As long as the demon is by his side... in this very moment... nothing else is important. Although Bucky's past is shrouded in mystery, Steve is merely thankful that the demon is with him now. Or perhaps, is it the strange emotion the blond finds in those silver eyes that calms his every anxious thought.

Adoration and an innocent passion.

Bucky's gaze makes Steve feel as if he is on a pedestal. As if he is a piece of art and only Bucky is watching him. It makes him feel like he is the demon's own private painting, hidden where only Bucky's eyes can look upon him.

It's like the demon never wants his stare to be on anything but the small blond beneath him.

Even though the many questions Steve has still lurk in the very back of his mind, the blond can't shake the lingering feeling of apprehension they leave behind.

“You look so beautiful, _my little warrior,”_ Bucky hums quietly, smiling down at the cadet. Steve's hair is ruffled from sleep and that only makes him more endearing.

The blond feels a different sensation in his stomach at the confession: as if little butterflies are fluttering against his innermost walls.

“Are you trying to flatter me?” Steve teases, his right hand slipping from Bucky's shoulders to drift down the demon's bare chest.

“Just saying what is true,” the demon drawls, the scent of Steve's pleasure permeates his nose as much as he can feel the emotion still vibrating along their bond.

“Mmhmm,” the blond replies with a mischievous smile. A spark of new-found confidence sneaks its way into Steve's body, guiding his hand lower until he reaches the hem of Bucky's boxers.

Bucky moans when Steve's fingers trace the outline of his cock through the material. The blond's touch is tentative in its exploration, only increasing in confidence when a growl emits from the demon's chest. The sound encourages the younger man, whose fingers begin to dip under the elastic at the hem.

That is, until a rhythmic knocking on the door causes Steve's hand to jolt away from the demon. The blond's gaze instantly turns towards the door, heart beat quickening in his guilty state.

“Steve, It's Sam,” a voice calls on the other side of the door.

Steve swears under his breath, jumping off of the bed as the demon moves to sit cross-legged over the sheets. The blond barely makes it two steps before his legs buckle under him. The only thing stopping him from hitting the ground is his grip on the edge of the desk.

“ _Fuck!”_ Steve hisses, hauling himself up before calling out more clearly. “Coming!”

The blond quickly searches for clean underwear, slipping the smooth fabric over his skin whilst trying his best not to fall. Steve grabs a loose-fitted shirt and pulls it over his head as he makes his way to the door. The t-shirt reaches past his hips and conceals the rosy marks upon his skin that the demon had left behind.

Steve takes a deep breath before opening the door, just wide enough to wedge his body between the gap. The cadet holds the door in place, obscuring the demon from view.

“Hey.” Steve smiles, a nervous hand tugging through blond strands before resting on the door frame.

His friend stands before him: arms folded and body still clad in dark sweatpants and a woolly jumper in an effort to protect him from the cool air of the dorms. The hallway is otherwise empty and all other doors remain closed with sleepy cadets tucked away behind them.

“Are you okay?” Sam raises a curious eyebrow at the cadet's pink cheeks.

“Of course, why?” The blond clears his throat.

“You seem a little flushed,” Sam admits, his concern evident in his tone.

They are close, and have been for a while- to call them best friends would be an understatement. The blond never fails to make Sam worry, even when he knows Steve can handle himself. He understands everything the blond has been through in his past, just as much as Steve knows his own history. There is a special place in his heart reserved for the small blond and his fiery stubborn attitude.

“Hmm? Oh, I'm fine. Is there something you needed?” Steve asks, shifting on his feet.

“Yeah, I was just wondering if you had some deodorant I could borrow? I just woke up and realised I'm out,” Sam explains truthfully, unaware of the intimacy between Steve and his demon mere minutes ago.

“Sure. Anything you need. Give me a second.” Steve turns, gently closing the door without it clicking shut.

The blond bypasses the demon and into the ensuite, picking up a can of deodorant. Bucky watches the flustered cadet from the bed, not once moving from his spot but his eyes track every one of Steve's movements.

The demon can hear the blond's heart beating anxiously, his veins pulsating near the surface. Bucky can still smell the slight dampness of sweat across Steve's back; the demon finds himself wanting nothing more than to tug the cadet closer again.

When Steve returns, his friend can't help but notice the mark upon his inner thigh. Pink and round and the skin is so obviously newly marred.

“Here you go.” The blond hands the container over and Sam accepts it gratefully.

“Thanks.” Sam takes one step away, but then stops to face the blond. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” The blond smiles in return, though in reality his legs are uncomfortably cold and Steve wants to run back into his demon's arms to warm them.

Bucky is always full of warmth and its _nice-_ to be held in such a tender, warm embrace when the world around you is so bitter and utterly relentless. To be protected and to receive pleasure from the very same source, brings a feeling of contentment. Even if Bucky does make him a wreck of nerves, especially when his body begins to flush under his touch.

“Is your demon with you?”

“What?” Steve feels the blood practically draining from his face.

“Is he in there, with you... right now?” Sam questions, his expression somewhat neutral, but Steve can see the tell-tale signs of worry in the creases of his eyes.

Steve isn't sure whether he should straight up lie and save the ~~guilt~~ embarrassment for a later date, or just confess to his friend and play it off as some innocent interaction.

“No.” The blond almost can't believe how easily the lie slips past his lips.

“Is Tony in there with you?” The other cadet asks, arms folding as he attempts to gain some sort of coherent explanation. It's not just curiosity that makes him question the blond.

“Oh my gods, Sam. No, why would- what? No, no. What makes you ask that?” Steve stumbles, unable to fully get over his initial surprise at his friend's sudden queries.

“Nothing in particular, I was just askin'... You're acting like you're hiding something,” Sam confesses, head tilting just that little bit as if trying to inspect Steve more closely.

“I was working...” Steve could never admit to Sam what he had actually done with his demon. Or rather, what the blond had allowed Bucky to do to him. His friend would only worry profusely and lecture him. Steve cannot risk his team-mates finding out, even if technically he hasn't done anything against the rules.

“You have a mark on your thigh,” Sam boldly states, eyes clearly unamused.

“Ah, I just hurt it on the edge of the desk.” Steve quickly understands how his words may be interpreted differently. “When I leant over it to get something.”

“You always have been clumsy,” Sam teases, his usual kind smile returning.

The blond scoffs in mock-offence. Although the mood may be light-hearted between them, the fact that he almost got caught with Bucky weighs heavy on his shoulders. He wouldn't have believed his own rushed words, but Sam doesn't press on the matter.

“Inanimate objects obviously just get in my way,” Steve jokes, causing a cheerful laugh to erupt from the other cadet.

“Sure they do,” Sam chuckles, slowly backing away. “Anyway, thanks for this, I'll meet you in the canteen for breakfast?”

“Yeah, I'll see you there.” Steve waves his friend off before moving from the door to close it completely.

Once the familiar _clunk_ of the door tells him its shut, relief washes over the cadet in a cold wave. Steve rests his forehead on the face of the door, palms still upon its surface as he lets out a deep sigh.

The blond pushes himself from the door, footsteps disappearing into the bathroom. Steve turns the tap on to splash his face with the cool, strange tasting water that runs from it: as if that alone could rid him of his guilty embarrassment.

When the cadet leans back up, his finds a very unamused demon in the reflection of the mirror. Steve gently pats his face dry with the towel, giving Bucky an apologetic look as he does so.

The demon leans against the frame of the door, arms loosely folded across his bare, muscular chest. The blond can't help but feel a little intimidated by the stance. The blond suddenly realises that he hadn't actually _touched_ the demon before they had been interrupted.

“Do you want me to...” Steve isn't quite sure what to say without his ears burning red. Bucky shakes his head with a small smile. The blond tiptoes a little closer.

“You don't have to,” the demon clarifies.

“What if I wanted to?” Steve asks hesitantly. Bucky tilts his head to the side, listening to the _thump thump thump_ of Steve's heart beating rapidly in his chest.

“Do you?” It isn't said in a challenging way, but merely as a question with no coercion to it.

Steve honestly isn't sure. He wants to make Bucky feel as good as he does when the demon's hands are upon him, but his inexperience prevents him from taking that step. Bucky clearly has a lot of self-control, and that calm exterior makes Steve even more apprehensive of trying something.

“We need to get going.” Steve tries to shuffle past the demon, but Bucky grabs his upper arm. The touch is gentle, taking care not to mar the cadet's pale skin. The blond's eyes slowly rise to meet the demon's tender stare.

“While in the Netherworld, I lived by one law,” the demon confesses.

“What was it?” Steve asks, intrigued.

“Trust your instinct. It will get you to where you need to be.”

      

Steve takes care when removing the blood vials from the machine, placing them onto a tray to take over to one of the unoccupied lab tables. The tabletops are upon high legs, with tall (rather uncomfortable) stools to sit on. Advanced microscopes easily dominate a quarter of the desk- they allow one to look at the components of demon blood with more clarity.

Doctor Erskine brings around what appears to be an A3 sized colour chart. Bucky peers at the laminated sheet, raises a brow and grunts as if he finds it amusing. Steve glares at the demon before sitting down, settling the vials next to the microscope. Steve takes one of the tubes, shaking it then inserting it into a little compartment in the microscope before leaning up to look into the wide lens.

As Steve stares into the eye piece, the powerful magnification allows the blond to see the blood in more detail. Bucky's blood is still the same blue as before, but up closer, it looks even more vibrant. The black flecks in the blood float and fuse in with the blue liquid, any aim seemingly absent. It reminds Steve of black koi fish swimming in a deep blue pond. However, as Steve increases the magnification, he can't help but notice the little yellow swirls that run like honey intermittently through the blood.

Steve sits back in the chair, sliding the sheet over to observe the boxes filled with different colours. Bucky watches from over Steve's shoulder, more inquisitive than usual. Or perhaps, more protective.

The cadet traces his hand along the page, seeking out the blue hue of Bucky's blood. Steve quietly reads the text under the square, conscious of the demon's presence behind him. The younger man remembers reading in his father's journal that a demon's blood is primarily dependent upon its type, but the details were oddly few and far between. In the space of twenty years, demonologists have made great improvements.

Blood mainly blue in colour is supposed to represent a warrior type, while the small black specks indicate a dark class. However, the chart does not explain why Bucky's blood contains yellow within it.

“Mind if I take a look?” Doctor Erskine asks.

Steve, startled by the sudden voice, jolts in surprise. The cadet looks to Erskine with an expression of uncertainty. The doctor's kind smile has Steve standing to allow him to use the microscope. Erskine gives a curt nod, as if to say _'thank you'_ as he gazes into the lens.

When the doctor makes an interested grunting sound, Steve's eyes automatically flicker towards his demon. Erskine turns to the electronic tablet in his hands, briefly tapping the screen before nodding his head.

“Your demon has the remains of being a trickster type, but of course, you know this already,” Erskine announces, stating facts as if everything he says is common knowledge and the only plausible explanation.

“Is that what the yellow colouring is?” Steve asks, a little nervously.

Doctor Erskine has a presence that radiates authority, and yet his soft expression says otherwise. He is undoubtedly kind, but takes his work extremely seriously. Steve would expect no less, and would find him ever so slightly intimidating either way.

“Yes, yellow blood is found in that type of demon.” The doctor confirms, before admitting: “I haven't actually seen demon blood of this composition before... very interesting.”

Steve is confused as to what response he should give. Fortunately, the sound of a vial shattering on the floor allows him to keep silent. Every set of eyes in the room turn to stare at a cadet Steve only vaguely recognises. A puddle of purple blood stains the ground and the cadet can only fumble and blush at their mistake. Erskine immediately goes to their aid, helping them to clean the mess and telling them not to worry: they took multiple samples for a reason.

Bucky gently touches the blond's arm with the back of his hand, bringing his attention to the work laid out in front of them. The cadet begins to jot down his findings, but after a moment, quickly glances around the room. When Steve is sure no one is looking, his left fingers interlace with his demon's under the table.

 


	16. Shadows May Wrap Around Your DNA, But They Do Not Determine Who You Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Fifteen:  
> **Steve dreamt of darkness and blood on his hands, with blue eyes that watched him.  
> **Sexy time occurred between Bucky and Steve, and most definitely involved the use of a certain demon mouth. ;)  
> **The avengers analysed their demons' blood to identify demon types.  
> e.g blue=warrior, yellow=trickster, purple=seducer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

“It was once believed that demon blood held healing properties that we humans could harness.

“Tribes used to drink the blood of demons, believing it would give them sacred powers.

“However, in actual fact, it is only earth classes whose blood can be used to heal _minor injuries._ By applying the the blood to the area it appears to provoke a faster healing process. But this only applies to injuries such as cuts and bruises,” Erskine explains, pacing the front of the lab.

The cadets eagerly listen to his foreign accent- albeit some more enthusiastic than others. It's more than half way through the week and the cadets have already learnt so much about the biological aspects of their demons. From analysing the layers formed from the centrifuges, to completing chromatography on their samples. Demon blood is remarkably similar to that of humans, and yet, it is so very different.

“Now, blood has a much more modern use.”The doctor pauses, turning to cast his gaze across the room. “Any of you care to guess?”

“The extraction of essence,” Tony calls out.

“Precisely. And that is what we will be doing today.” Erskine gestures towards the main computer.

Thick white cables leak from the back of the thin screen, running along the wall until they disappear inside a microwave sized metallic box. The container has a strange symbol carved into its surface, the front being made of heavy glass to view the hollow, white insides.

“What's the machine called?” Rhodey asks, bewildered by the odd looking equipment.

“Dee.” Doctor Erskine smirks, giving the box a light pat. “Also known as: Demon Essence Extractor.”

“Original...” Clint mutters under his breath.

“Who wants to start first?” Erskine questions, looking at the cadets one by one, who in turn avert their eyes. “No volunteers? None at all? Alright, let's start with the dark class.”

Steve grimaces, embarrassed and anxious at going first. The cadet can feel his skin prickling with the stares of the other first years as he takes one of his last few vials. When he reaches Erskine, the doctor holds his hand out and Steve hesitantly passes him the tube containing Bucky's blood.

The demon does not move from his place near the back of the laboratory, but his eyes do follow his human's movements. Bucky can smell the blood in the containers, as can the other demons present. It tastes almost metallic on his tongue, but it does not cause him any irritation.

What does bother him, is the absence of the blond's delicate warmth in his arms. Bucky is only soothed by the fleeting looks Steve gives him and the knowledge that the cadet will undoubtedly return to his side. As long as the demon remains patient.

Erskine types a command into the computer; the glass door immediately begins to slide up and he places the vial into the centre of the machine. A few more taps upon the screen has the door locking into place with a _tsst_ sound.

All at once, the machine begins to buzz as a sharp beam of silver light reflects and refracts inside of the container, hitting against the vial numerous times so that it almost looks as if the blood is shining like a crystal.

The blood appears to bubble, as if being boiled with intense heat as it slowly begins to turn black. It thickens and swirls and eventually, the only thing that is left is a vial of darkness. Like a dense, black mist. It looks as if it would be soft to touch, like a cloud; but its vibrant appearance also makes it seem as if one could _drown_ in it.

The light ceases to emit its radiance any longer as the machine slowly quietens.

“As you will see, the colour of essence indicates a demon's class,” Erskine lectures as he removes the vial from the Demon Essence Extractor. “This has allowed us to recently develop demon tech that can track demons. Or at least, give us an idea of which demons are close by on the battle field.”

Doctor Erskine hands the blond the vial and its darkened contents. Steve gratefully accepts it and scurries back to his seat next to Tony. As the other cadets all take their turns extracting essence from their demon's blood samples, Steve can't help but be mesmerised by Bucky's essence.

It is as if Steve is looking into an endless abyss that conceals many secrets within its shadows. It's intriguing; pulling at the cords of curiosity in Steve's mind. Nevertheless, it gives the blond an odd feeling... He is holding a part of Bucky: of the darkness that ultimately makes up his demon.

The dark essence is trapped in such a small vial, especially when compared to its potential power, which only makes Steve wonder whether Bucky feels that way.

And yet... how could someone so powerful ever truly be contained?

From the blood samples they first analysed using the microscopes, Steve can clearly see that Bucky is indeed a dark class, that much has always been obvious. Although the vibrant blue of Bucky's blood indicates him being a warrior type, Steve can't help but wonder why the demon went through the change from being a trickster.

But, from analysing Bucky's blood, Steve has found that his demon has been a warrior for a long, long time. _How_ a demon's type changes in the Netherworld, is unknown, but humans can clearly see the transformation in their blood. The blond can't help but frown at this: a demon's blood replenishes very quickly, replacing old cells with new ones. So the blond wonders why there is always a hint of their old type that remains.

Perhaps the conversion doesn't _completely_ change a demon's type, but merely alters most of their biology- ultimately meaning that a demon may still possess characteristics of its original type. Even if its influence on their behaviour is almost non-existent compared to its new type. A warrior, known to use strength, may still use the cunning associated with their original trickster type to bring down a target. Or perhaps, a trickster who was once a seducer, may still use those abilities to lure in its prey with the illusion of beauty.

But this, is merely the blond's theory: a demon's way of thinking cannot necessarily be tested, and demon behaviour is already difficult enough to study without the concern of variables.

However, essence -used alongside the analysis of auras- can be used to determine a demon's level. The _density_ of essence can allow one to interpret which level bracket a demon is at. But as Steve compares the density of Bucky's essence to an online database, he can't help but think that, perhaps, the scientists have underestimated his level.

“Essence. Does anyone know what else it is called?” Erskine asks the class.

“Inner auras,” Steve blurts out, recalling it from his father's journal.

“Yes, but why is this inaccurate?”

“Because although they are similar, only demons have essence. It is a physical form of their power, derived from the demon's class,” Bruce interrupts excitedly before the blond has a chance to speak. The other cadet is just as enthusiastic -if not more- as Erskine. His eyes are wide and his mouth a captivating grin; he looks like he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

“Precisely. Essence is hugely involved in manifesting, and in fact, essence is what appears when establishing a weapon.” Erskine pauses for a brief moment, face hardening as if thinking deeply before he continues. “We'll talk about auras next week, but for now, write up your reports.”

        

“So, it's like a genetic fingerprint?” Steve questions his demon.

“Yes, every demon's essence has a unique _smell._ It is like a scent of their power,” Bucky explains, spine aligned with the wall behind him as the pair sit cross-legged on the bed.

“Even though it looks the same for demons in the same class?” The blond asks in confusion, elbows on his knees and chin resting in his palms.

The demon nods, his non-metallic arm drifting along the sheets to rest just behind where the blond sits on the mattress. Steve can feel Bucky's heat radiating behind him and finds comfort in the sensation.

“Despite what humans may think, there is always something that makes a demon different from the rest.”

“So, what makes you unique to any other dark class?” Steve teases, smiling up at the demon with bright eyes full of warmth.

“Oh, I think my _exceptional good looks_.” Bucky grins, leaning close enough to the blond to feel every hot exhale.

The blond laughs at that, his cheeks dusting with the faintest blush. Although Steve does not deny it -Bucky _is_ very attractive- he still can't help the giggle that escapes him. It makes Steve's eyes look as if they are actually glowing with something very much like happiness.

The demon finds himself chuckling along with the blond's infectious, carefree laughter, completely enveloped in their entwining auras and the bond that hums deeply in the background.

Steve sighs wistfully and the room drops to an almost deafly silence. Bucky watches the cadet who seems absorbed in thought. However, the blond's brows are not furrowed, nor his jaw clenched or lips pursed: his eyelids have drifted shut, lips plush and ever so slightly parted and the crinkles around his eyes are all but gone.

If the demon didn't know any better, he would have thought the cadet was dreaming. Steve's face shows nothing but peace and serenity. Bucky wonders what the blond must be thinking to display such a beautiful expression. The demon never wants to look away- completely captivated by the blond.

“You know, it's crazy...” The blond begins, leaning up as his hands fall to rest in his lap.

“What is?” Bucky cocks his head to watch the blond nibbling at his lower lip.

“Next week I will have known you for five months, ” the blond states, a slight tone of disbelief to his voice. “We will have been bonded for five months.”

“And?” Bucky presses, knowing there is something else the younger man wishes to say.

“It feels like I've known you for so much longer. Yet, I barely know anything about you,” Steve admits, his fingertips brushing together in a sign of coyness.

“You know more than anyone else,” Bucky responds, his voice soft as he places a kiss to the barely exposed skin of Steve's shoulder.

It's like silk under his lips, and the demon craves the blond's smooth form underneath him.

“Maybe I want to find out more.” Steve looks up at the demon, his expression... surprisingly fragile.

As if the younger man could break with the wrong words. But, Bucky knows that Steve is far stronger than that. The human before him is not some weak creature, but a being with the heart of a true warrior.

“Go on, then.”

“Hmm?” Steve automatically replies as his mind still processes Bucky's words.

“Ask away. If I can answer it, I will,” the demon encourages.

“Okay.” The blond ponders the many questions he could ask, but what leaves the cadet's mouth has the demon surprised. “What's your favourite colour?”

“My... favourite... colour?” Bucky repeats slowly.

The demon doesn't quite know what the blond is actually asking, for how he interprets it surely isn't correct.

“Yeah.” The blond smiles deviously.

“I don't understand.”

“Well, what colour do you prefer, or like more than any other?” At the demon's blank expression, Steve continues his explanation. “A colour that you wouldn't mind staring at all day, and that makes you feel good when you look at it.”

“Then, the colour of your eyes,” Bucky states, as if that is the only answer he could ever possibly give.

“Blue?” It's Steve's turn to be confused.

“No, I mean specifically, the hue of your eyes,” the demon confesses, unashamed- especially since his words evoke such a wonderful expression from the younger man.

Steve can almost instantly feel his cheeks blushing furiously in embarrassment. The warm feeling in his stomach certainly doesn't help. The blond is at a loss as to what he should say. No teasing remarks or innocent replies come to his mind: the younger man is speechless.

“Any other questions, _my little warrior?”_ Bucky asks softly, leaning closer to trace the shell of Steve's ear with his lips.

“I-” The cadet begins, but before he can say anything else, both his and Bucky's attention turn to outside the window.

The cadet can hear the hurried shouting of several soldiers and Steve is sure he can pick out Fury's in the midst of the commotion. The blond frowns, pushing himself from the bed to the window, Bucky only a step behind him.

Two light grey trucks big enough to fit a dozen soldiers and their demons situate fifty metres from the dorms, their engines humming and dark symbols embellishing their sides. Several soldiers gather and run between the vehicles, some adorned in green military suits with red bands tied around their arms.

Steve frowns, watching Fury gesture to one of the trucks with a seemingly angered air of authority with every movement. An older man in the unfamiliar green uniform stands beside him, hands clasped behind his back with a stern expression. As Steve peers closer, he can barely make out what he believes to be the Chinese flag etched onto the sleeve of the strange man's arm.

Their demons crouch by their feet, hissing and growling in controlled irritation, their bodies vaguely in human form. While Fury's demon bows his head, wings scraping against the floor in behaviour that seeps irritation, the other man's demon has a thin tail that swishes back and forth as if ready to pounce.

The demon is nothing like Steve has seen before, not even in his textbooks, and the fiend evokes nothing but fear at the sight of it. With a curved spine and talons for fingernails, its lack of wings oddly makes it seem far less human, especially as its joints seem to bend in the most awkward places.

For a moment, Steve wonders if the demon has been tortured.

But the white scars upon its dark brown skin suggest that it has been subjected to many battles.

The cadet doesn't understand why the Chinese military would be at the academy, especially running around seemingly panicked. Steve cannot depict the words the soldiers shout, for their instructions are lost in the sound of a third vehicle -one Steve recognises as belonging to the academy- halting to a stop next to Fury.

Bucky can feel the blond's unrest as much as his curiosity, it reverberates in the centre of his mind, as if every one of their emotions are connected. The demon presses himself along the cadet's back, peering over blond curls as his metallic fingers rest upon Steve's hip.

“There's a demon in the silver vehicle,” Bucky professes, his grip on the cadet tightening ever so slightly.

Demons may be crawling throughout the academy, spreading their scent and becoming more powerful with their humans... but that does little to cover the demon so obviously locked away, especially when the fiend's energy seeps so profusely into the air around it.

“Which one?” Steve asks, scanning the military trucks and the symbols that seem hurriedly drawn on their sides.

“On the right. I can sense them from here.”

“Meaning?” The blond urges Bucky to continue; like liquid cascading into a body of water, his mind quickly fills with questions. Battering the edges of his conscious as the cadet can all but wonder as the enquiries grow and overfill- too many to be answered, and yet not even close to enough to gain the whole picture.

“They're rather powerful,” the demon admits bluntly.

“More powerful than you?”

Bucky scoffs at that, before leaning down to whisper into the blond's ear.

“Not even close.”

A shiver runs down Steve's spine; the demon's warm breath at the nape of his neck and the echo of Bucky's deep voice in his ears has the cadet, for a brief moment, completely intoxicated.

“C-can you hear what they're saying?” Steve stutters, his jaw clenching in an effort to ignore the demon's close proximity.

“They are scared the demon is going to get out: they want to transport it into the other vehicle to keep it secure,” Bucky replies, listening closely to the voices uttering panic, and the few that emit control.

“It doesn't make sense though,” Steve mutters to himself.

“Hm?”

“Why bring it here? Why come all this way just to bring the US military a demon?” The cadet thinks out loud, watching the soldiers gathering around the vehicles, weapons in their grasps and clutched close to their bodies. “Unless...”

“Unless what?”

“They don't know how to keep this one contained properly.” Steve can feel the hairs upon his arms raise, a cold wave running through his veins at the thought.

“They are frightened,” Bucky tells the blond, as if that is the most ridiculous thing.

“Of the demon?”

“Yes, they reek of terror. Except the one you call Fury,” the demon explains in utter distaste.

Steve opens his mouth to comment on the old soldier's seemingly fearless exterior, but the back doors to the silver truck are suddenly being wrenched open and Steve can no longer speak. Two soldiers in green lean into the concealed end of the grey vehicle, and not a moment later they tug the hidden fiend into view.

The demon stands in human form; chains inscribed with symbols bind their arms close to their chest and wrap around each individual leg, linked together by smaller metallic chains that _clink_ with every step.

Like spun gold, the demon's blond hair falls between his muscular shoulder blades, almost glowing. The demon is leaner than Bucky, though his muscles still flaunt his obvious strength through his tight, light blue clothing.

Their face may be masculine with a sharp jawline and thin lips, but the demon certainly has a quality of beauty with their soft, almost white skin. It is distinctly obvious to Steve that the demon is a seducer type.

“Bucky?” Steve says the demon's name, though he knows he doesn't have to do so to gain his attention.

Bucky's focus is seemingly always on the blond, no matter the circumstance, the demon does not ever ignore the human's existence. He may avoid answering the younger man's questions... but ultimately, the demon cannot help but indulge himself in the blond's sweet voice.

“Yes?”

“Can you tell what class the demon is?”

“Of course,” Bucky replies simply, far from aggressive.

The soldiers force the demon towards the tan-coloured truck where Fury and his demon wait patiently, before attempting to coerce the fiend inside. The demon struggles against the hold, the black collar around its neck glowing with the yellow symbols embedded onto its surface.

“And..?” Steve giggles, nudging his lower-back against the demon with a slight sway of his hips.

“I believe humans refer to is as a _light_ class.” Bucky smirks, nipping once at the younger man's throat in light retaliation.

Fury shakes his head and with a wave of his hand the soldiers release their grip on the fiend. The demon stands still, eyes florid and vibrant with shades of orange and yellow. It's almost as if a piece of the sun shines in each of those tantalising orbs.

Fury's hand grasps the demon tightly on the shoulder, his own demon growling at its feet without Fury having to command so. The old soldier pushes the light class forward; only jolting in response, the fiend is otherwise void of any reaction towards the humans and their demons.

That is until, just before the light class steps into the secure vehicle, its head turns and his gaze finds the window where Steve and Bucky watch. The blond is almost startled when the fiend _smiles_ at them: pearly whites shining amongst pink lips.

There's no warmth to it, no expression of kindness.

When the fiend smiles, it's like the creature is laughing at some heinous act. It is a vicious smile- one you would expect from a killer who only takes pleasure in death, destruction and mischief.

Steve gasps as Bucky's arm wraps around his waist, pulling the cadet away from the window.

~~_Away from the other demon's sight._ ~~

“Bucky! _What the hell?”_ Steve exclaims, trying to wriggle free of the demon's hold.

Bucky stays silent, perhaps too silent. His arm remains tightly around the blond's waist, his other coming to link across the cadet's chest. Steve squirms for a moment before his body gives in to Bucky's embrace.

The blond sighs, his insatiable curiosity and his demon's touch only make him more eager to know the reason behind the light class being brought to the academy. Steve can only assume it'll be taken to the labs to be experimented on, tested, used, and perhaps even beaten.

Knowledge about light classes is limited; as little as what is known about dark classes. Steve recalls reading that light class demons are able to manifest the brightest of lights.

It would be seen as beautiful: for the light is said to be akin to the sun's radiance. Like white, golden encrusted vines reaching out and spreading in the most magnificent display.

Except...the light _burns._

It _scorches_ and _melts_ skin to nothing but red and white.

Contradictory to their name, light classes are not capable of _good._ Their power is immense, even when of a low level, its rays can still rip through layers of skin and evaporate the strongest of substances.

It is rare to come across a light class demon, as uncommon as it is to meet a dark class- battlefield or not. But why some demons are more rare than others is unknown. Speculations can only be made, and some of them Steve believes are rather far-fetched.

Fear of demons ultimately leads to rumours, and demonologists can only work so hard to dispute, or even support them.

Steve can hear the obscured vehicles begin to move, but it's only when their droning becomes faint does Bucky's embrace loosen. But, the blond stays in place, allowing his demon to nuzzle against the smooth stretch of Steve's throat. Bucky presses a fleeting kiss to the younger man's neck before burying his nose in silky blond strands.

“Bucky?” Steve calls softly, hands interlacing with Bucky's against his stomach.

“Mmm,” the demon hums, eyes falling shut in calm satisfaction.

Bucky's aura completely encases the blond's: there are only a faint few patches of orange in a room overtaken by darkness. If Steve could see it in that moment, he would unlikely be able to depict anything aside from their forms. As if the blackest of shadows are encasing and masking them from the rest of the world.

“What the _fuck_ was that?” The blond snaps.

“Nothing.” Is all Bucky gives as a muffled answer.

Steve turns to face his demon, eyebrow cocked with an expression of disbelief.

“I wouldn't have called that _nothing,”_ Steve deadpans, looking carefully at Bucky's features to find some sort of explanation in a face seemingly void of any emotion.

A low rumble emits from the demon's chest, barely audible, and yet Steve's ears seem to hone in on the sound. The growl is of annoyance and _frustration,_ echoing inside the demon's throat _._

However, the sound is far from vicious and Steve is all too familiar with the tone. And yet... the cadet isn't comfortable with the noise being in response to his question.

“Don't growl at me,” Steve commands, arms folding in an defensive gesture.

Not that Steve is, or ever has been afraid of his demon. The cadet knows Bucky won't hurt him, or at least, he can never imagine the demon harming him.

“Only if it doesn't turn you on,” Bucky replies instantly, his voice so deep and enticing that the younger man can feel the words vibrating down his spine.

For a second, Steve thinks the demon is being serious, until that wicked smirk comes into view. The cadet's chest begins to feel warmer, as if it is an automatic response to the demon's smile. Even Steve cannot deny that, when Bucky is content, he is as well.

They are ~~connected~~ _bonded;_ their emotions entwine and reflect one another, becoming something so whole... so complete, it is hard to determine what each being feels. But maybe that doesn't matter, for perhaps their emotions are very much the same.

Like a flower blossoming into something so much more complex than first thought: their emotions grow with each day that they are bound together.

“Trying to change the subject, are we?” The blond teases.

“I'm not the only one.”

The younger man blushes at the implication. Steve shifts from foot to foot as the demon watches him, though the younger man is confident enough to stare back.

“I... I need to finish my report.” The blond scratches the back of his head, twisting to face the desk.

“What were you going to say?” Bucky suddenly asks, retracing each of the cadet's steps to wrap fingers around a delicate wrist.

“When?” Steve glances up at his demon. The younger man doesn't pull away from the feel of a metallic hand upon his skin. Rather, the cadet finds himself at ease with the familiarity of it.

“Before.” The demon replies quietly, his thumb rubbing little circles along Steve's inner wrist, where the skin is most soft and sensitive.

“I don't remember,” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders as he looks to the files laid neatly on the surface of his desk. But in fact, the blond distinctly remembers exactly what he was going to say:

_I like your eyes too._

        

“The purpose of auras have been debated since we first knew of their existence,” Erskine begins, flickering on the large screen embedded into the metallic wall. Photographs of people appear on the screen, only to disappear as quickly as they emerge. Some of the photographs are old, black and white and dotted, while some are in bright, vivid detail.

But each photograph shows their auras. There are auras of every possible colour: blues and greens, yellows and oranges, pinks and reds, violets and silvers.

The cadets sit in a semi-circle around the screen, typing notes onto their electronic tablets or laptops. Their demons lean against the walls behind them, waiting a little restlessly. Steve isn't sure whether Bucky has something to do with that, or not.

“While some believe auras are a reflection of one's personality, others believe that they are a physical representation of the power, or _energy_ , one has.

“They are extremely difficult to study, and we were only able to look at them through specialised cameras, in the photographs they produce.

“Now, we have advancing technology that has allowed for the development of eyepieces. These can be used to constantly study these strange attributes that all living creatures have, despite each aura being unique.”

Erskine brings around copies of the eyepiece Tony had once shown the blond, informing the cadets that they are theirs to keep. While the doctor instructs most of the cadets how to get the technology to function, Tony and Steve have little difficulty.

The blond observes the other future soldiers, taking in each of their auras. Sam's vibrant red aura catches Steve's attention, as if poppies surround his form; a vast contrast to Tony's blue or Bruce's dark, forest-green aura.

Steve notices that all of the cadet's auras are the same size, regardless of the different hues and shades unique to each individual. However, when Steve turns to seek out Bucky's aura he doesn't expect it to be that much larger than the other demon's. But it's as if his aura physically repels all others... or perhaps the other auras are withdrawing in fear.

“As you should know from your studies, in the last few hundred years, demonologists have been trying to link the size of a demon's aura, to its level.” Erskine's voice surprises the blond, who immediately snaps his attention back to the professor.

That is, until Steve quickly realises that all of the others cadets are staring in awe of Bucky's aura. Except for Tony, who merely gives the blond a knowing stare, as if to say _'it is impressive'._ Of course, Steve knows Bucky's aura is quite... incredible, remarkable, and unforgettably beautiful in its own way. Or at least, the blond thinks so.

Even if such darkness is found only in nightmares.

However, an uncomfortable feeling nags at Steve's stomach. Like little insects gnawing at his insides. All because every one of the other cadet's gazes are upon his demon- although they may stare in amazement, there is the unmistakable look of terror in their eyes.

“We have the perfect example before us. Take Roger's demon, who is estimated at level fifty five, and compare his aura to Wilson's demon, one that is only level twenty four.

“I believe that auras do represent the power a demon has, or at least, to some extent. In the end, what we know of demons are mostly theories, much like the rest of science,” the doctor explains, slowly gaining back the focus of his students.

“Roger's demon is one of the higher classes though, does that mean its aura will be larger regardless?” One of the cadets asks, scrutiny in his tone and eyebrows drawn neatly together.

“Good question. But I'm afraid we don't know: we are yet to encounter a low level demon of such classes to be able to perform a comparison,” Erskine replies, flicking through the electronic slides to display images of demons. “What do you notice?”

The cadets stare at the screen, eyepieces placed carefully in the pockets of their jackets. Each image has the demon's class written underneath it.

“The colour of a demon's aura isn't necessarily related to its class, although there are similarities,” Bruce answers hesitantly.

“Precisely. So, what trait do you think determines the colour of a demon's aura?”

“It depends on what theory you use,” Wanda calls out, one leg crossed neatly over the other with her hands clasped in her lap: the perfect example of confidence.

“Go on,” Erskine encourages with a nod of his head.

“If you believe auras represent a demon's personality, or rather, their prime instinct,that could explain why demons belonging to the same class tend to have similar shades of auras.”

“And on the other hand?” Erskine casts his gaze around the room.

“It could represent their power. The energy they have physically changes the colour of their aura. There might be biological aspect of each demon that is unique -that we do not yet know of- that may be responsible for the differences,” Steve explains next when Wanda doesn't continue.

“What can we conclude from this?” The doctor asks; though his students remain oddly quiet in reply, their gazes on the floor. Albeit, Steve's heart almost skips a beat at what Erskine says next in the prolonged silence:

“We should never assume that we know the enemy.”


	17. Your Shadows Are Not The Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Sixteen:  
> **Blood can be used to extract essence, of which is the colour of the demon's class (e.g. Bucky's essence is black in colour). Did this using Demon Essence Extractor (Dee).  
> **Bucky informs Steve that a demon's essence has a unique smell.  
> **Bucky and Steve watch a Light Class demon being brought into the academy by the Chinese military.  
> **The cadets are given eyepieces to view auras, allowing them to attempt to link the size of auras to a demon's level.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

**** _We should never assume that we know the enemy._

Those words ring in Steve's ears like a warning bell, over and over. The way Erskine had said it made him seem so certain that his statement is right. Of course Steve agrees with it, except from the fundamental flaw in its logic.

Are demons really the enemy?

Or are humans merely seeing something that isn't actually there?

Steve cannot ever imagine himself seeing Bucky as the enemy- bonded or not. The idea is absurd, but perhaps the blond is more than a little biased. The cadet knows how dangerous demons can be, for that is why he has always wanted to protect those who cannot fend for themselves against such beings.

Though to go as far as to say a whole species must be dealt with... to be used and tortured and ~~murdered~~ killed until there are none left... That is certainly not something Steve agrees with, but has to accept regardless.

Then again, even Bucky seems to despise his own kind, though the reason for that is unclear to the blond. Even though humans have, and will continue to commit repulsive acts, the blond doesn't think he would ever be able to truly hate the entire race. There are too many people who the cadet holds so dearly, and those who wish to do nothing but good.

Are there any demons who want to do good?

From what Steve can gather, there are demons with intelligence beyond the dog-like thinking many demonologists believe them to have. Is it too much to think that some of them (even if only a few) want to do something more than the animalistic behaviours usually displayed?

The blond frowns mid-thought, fingers pausing above the sleek buttons of his laptop. Steve tugs the sleeves of his soft, oversized jacket over his knuckles, leaning back against the chair with a deep sigh. Fingers cold with goosebumps bubbling to the surface across his skin, Steve remembers exactly why he prefers his demon's embrace over the winter's harsh touch.

Steve casts his gaze out the window to listen to the sound of thunder rolling across the bleak sky. Droplets of rain blur and fall down the thin glass, gathering on the metal ledge beneath in cold lumps. It won't be long until the rain finally turns into white clumps of snow and the pathways become covered in a layer of ice instead of thick mud.

“Is your report done yet?” A deep voice beckons.

The blond snaps his attention to the demon sprawled on his back upon the bed, adorned in nothing but black underwear that leaves little to the imagination. Not that Steve needs to imagine what lies beneath the rather provocative clothing.

“Almost, I've just got some things to finalise, then scan my sketches into the document.”

Why that may be true, the cadet is also trying to figure out the reason for why his analysis of Bucky's aura and essence, keeps giving him a level bracket higher than the demonologists had predicted when they had first been bonded.

“Finish the rest tomorrow, it's late.”

“It's not even past nine, Bucky.” Steve slips his watch from his wrist, placing it on the edge of the desk as he slowly stands.

“I just want you to lie with me,” the demon replies innocently, though Steve can see those mischievous eyes glinting with unvirtuous intentions.

The younger man stretches his arms above his head, feeling the faint _clicks_ of his spine as he tilts his neck from side to side in an effort to relax the stiffened muscles. Bucky watches the movement: how Steve's eyes close as if in simple bliss and how a patch of bare skin is exposed from under the blond's shirt.

“Someone is being impatient,” the blond teases with a giggle.

The demon hums low in his throat as the younger man bends to grab a folded white cotton shirt and his grey sweatpants from beside the desk. Steve automatically twists towards the sound with a raised brow- though the cadet can't quite erase the smile from his face.

Steve turns around with a roll of his eyes, ignoring the demon's smirk as he slips off his jacket. Although very aware of Bucky' gaze, the blond doesn't sneak into the en-suite to change. The demon has seen Steve naked several times, and they have done things that five months ago would have (and still do) make the blond blush.

Now, Bucky seeing him in his underwear isn't so much of a big deal. Even if Steve can't control the shivers that course through him whenever the demon's eyes meet his bare skin. But, it is far from a feeling of terror, regardless of how fast his heart may beat.

Bucky doesn't whistle or reach out to the younger man, but merely observes with a stare full of tenderness and warmth reserved just for the stubborn human. Steve's clothes quickly fall to the floor in a crumpled mess, becoming replaced with material that lacks the distinct earthy smell from the rain.

The demon has memorised every soft, rosy and velvety smooth patch of Steve's skin- like someone recalling every detail of their favourite painting. Bucky knows exactly how the blond feels under his fingertips, as well as the utterly entrancing reactions he can evoke with his touch.

Steve tip-toes over to the bed, gesturing for Bucky to move with a wave of his hand. However, the demon doesn't move so much as an inch from where he lies in the very centre of the mattress. Bucky ignores the glare that tickles his skin, choosing to merely part his legs _just enough_ so that a certain human can slide in between them. When the cadet only looks at him in confusion, the demon pats his muscular chest twice.

It takes the cadet barely a moment to understand what Bucky means. What his demon _wants._ A light blush rises on Steve's cheeks, though that does little to dampen his resolve.

“I'm not going to lie on you,” Steve deadpans in response.

“Come on, doll,” the demon coaxes, smiling innocently, even if his eyes show something very different in their darkened core.

Although Steve is known to be rather serious, when with his demon, the cadet finds his body relaxing and his mind... it's as if he is being set free. The blond can be himself without anxious thoughts or worries crowding his thoughts and affecting his actions.

Of course, the nervous thoughts that remain are entirely due to Steve's inexperience. If the cadet were to mention them, Bucky would kiss them away, for the demon wants Steve to feel nothing but pleasure- sexual or purely something far deeper in his chest.

“I don't want to give you any ideas,” the blond jests, the ambiance around them is light-hearted and full of teasing.

“Oh, I have _plenty_ already.”

“ _Bucky...”_

The blond may be stubborn, but Bucky can be just as persistent. Even though they are on the same wavelength in terms of what they desire... Steve's shyness, specifically when it comes to his demon, often results in Bucky having to resort to gentle persuasion.

The demon chuckles at how the younger man whines his name, knowing all too well that his determination is fading. Bucky opens his arms, holding them out above him to beckon the blond closer.

Steve tugs at his bottom lip in thought, before finally sighing; as if giving up a fight he never wanted to win in the first place.

Lowering himself onto the mattress, Steve hovers awkwardly over the demon's physique before his hips nudge and rest between Bucky's thighs. As their legs align, the blond plants one hand upon the demon's warm chest, feeling the slight roughness of Bucky's skin before his head lays next to it. The demon's arms wrap around the cadet as soon as he settles, finally looping his other arm under Bucky's neck.

“ _You smell so good,”_ the demon whispers, nose buried in thick blond locks and breathing in the scent that is undeniably alluring- as if Steve's very essence bewitches the demon. Like sweet flowers blossoming and permeating the air, the smell is distinct.

Even at times when the fragrance may be lost amongst spices, fresh odours or metallic smells, Bucky can still pinpoint the sweetness that clings to his taste buds. Though the aroma is nothing compared to the actual taste of the human upon his tongue.

It is something the demon craves so dearly. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bold to say that it is something the demon has become completely addicted to.

However, the demon cannot help but feel something else entirely new (and yet very similar) whenever their eyes meet and the blond _smiles._ The younger man's laugh is beautifully infectious, and the demon yearns to keep _feeling_ the wondrous emotions that vibrate through their bond.

The mind of a warrior and a heart of pure gold.

Steve is nothing short of captivating.

As if the younger man is a rarity, who does nothing but enchant the demon with blue eyes and stubborn remarks.

Though it is not just the demon who is utterly enthralled by the other's presence.

“What did you say?” Steve mumbles.

Bucky's voice had been muffled by blond hair and all the cadet can perceive is the slow throbbing of the demon's heart echoing up through his ear canal. A stark contrast to his own erratic beats; his body melting with an innocent pleasure as one of Bucky's hands slips under the fabric of his shirt to rub along Steve's spine.

“Do you like the rain?” The demon asks suddenly, surprising the human.

“When I was a child, I dreaded the rain,” the younger man awkwardly admits.

“How come?”

“Because I couldn't go outside.” If Steve was in a position to, his words would have been accompanied by a shrug.

“Why?”

“My immune system was fucked,” the cadet wistfully recalls, the memories that seem so long ago flooding to the forefront of his mind. “The rain would just make me more ill.”

“You have become strong.”

“Yeah...” The blond lets out a half-hearted laugh that vibrates into the demon's chest.

“It's not enough- you want to be stronger,” the demon states, for this much is clear.

Like a diamond amongst charcoal, the human's goal is evident. The little human wants nothing more than to become stronger, so that he can protect others. Though in a world that has relentless forces against his every move, the blond cannot do it alone.

“I guess that's why I'm glad I've got you,” Steve admits quietly, though they both know that is not the only reason the cadet longs for the demon by his side.

Bucky hums as if in agreement, fingers sliding up between the blond's shoulder blades, only to drift down to the hem of Steve's underwear, before repeating the motion again and again. The action not only comforts the younger man, but calms his demon- as if taming some rabid wolf into a creature as docile as a family dog.

And yet... the potential for destruction never wavers or fades. When Bucky's hands trace along his skin, the cadet can feel the warmth that is only a mere fraction of the demon's true power.

“And what about you, do you like the rain?” Steve asks.

“It has its uses. But I do not find any pleasure in its existence.”

“Oh? And what does a powerful demon like yourself find pleasure in?” The words leave the cadet's lips before he can even comprehend the alternate meanings of the rather ambiguous question.

“ _You,”_ Bucky replies almost instantly, his tone teasing as he whispers into the younger man's ear. Yet, there is a very real truth to the demon's answer, and of course, they both know this well.

“I meant activities,” the blond giggles, shifting to rest his chin atop the hand planted on the demon's chest.

“I know.” Bucky smirks, craning his neck to press a kiss to the blond's plump lips.

“Hey, I'm going to ask you something,” Steve says seriously after a moment. The demon raises a brow in response, nodding his head slightly. “I want you to answer it honestly.”

“Okay.”

“I heard a rumour that they found the light class in a Chinese temple. They transferred it here because they do not have the facilities to deal with the demon,” the cadet informs Bucky; monotonous, as if reciting a script. Not quite managing to meet the demon's gaze, Steve keeps his eyes on the faint dark stubble along his jawline.

“So, what is your question?” The demon doesn't quite understand where the blond is going with his enquiry.

But, what he does know it that it makes the blond nervous. Bucky can sense the little pinpricks in the cadet's body that only come with being filled to the brim with unease. Though the younger man is strangely comforted by the rise and fall of his body with each of the demon's steady breaths.

“Do you know the demon?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“The way you acted when you saw it.. when it _looked_ at us... You pulled me away. Not knowing why has been... its been bothering me since last week,” the blond confesses, finally daring to search for a reaction in his demon's features. Albeit, Bucky's expression gives nothing away- something the blond has gotten used to in their time together.

“Yes,” the demon sighs, as if concluding a long tale. There is no emotion to the demon's voice, as if the topic bores him. “I have crossed paths with that demon before.”

“In the Netherworld?”

How could Bucky ever resist those precious blue eyes? Especially when they look to him so widely, overflowing with curiosity with each flutter of delicate lashes.

“Yes, but it was many years ago. I do not know them well.”

“Did you... _you know?”_ Steve hesitantly asks. A part of him doesn't want the answer to be revealed, for it may break a piece of him he never knew existed.

“What?”

“Have sex with them?” The blond's cheeks burn a deep red; spreading a pink warmth to the very tips of his ears and the nape of his neck. Steve almost can't believe that he actually asked Bucky.

“Of course not, they are hardly my type.” The demon pauses for a second, analysing his thoughts before grinning. “That is what humans say, isn't it?”

“So... you prefer small blonds instead?” Steve jokes, though his chest feels strangely tight, even with the relief that washes through him.

“I prefer _you.”_

Bucky's voice is low and gravelly, as if he is incapable of giving any other answer- for anything else would be a lie. The blond's heart leaps in his chest, an almost angelic smile gracing his lips at the demon's proclamation. The demon catches the momentary glint in those bright blue orbs that doesn't quite ever fade out.

However, the demon's declaration holds a much deeper meaning, albeit neither human or demon quite grasp it yet.

The demon desires Steve more than he has ever yearned for anything else. The cadet is present in his every waking thought, constantly on his mind even in sleep. The human's heartbeat is a lullaby the demon cannot go without. His scent more relaxing than any drug.

But most of all... the blond's touch... it feels undeniably _good._

“How did you come to meet the demon, then?” Steve asks, averting his gaze as a blush paints his cheeks.

“ _Steve.”_ Bucky's tone changes, it darkens into a roughness the blond has not yet encountered. As if the younger man has thrown one too many stones at a sleeping beast.

The blond quickly looks back at the demon, unsettled by the hardness in Bucky's eyes. The cadet can feel something strange, something _off_ vibrating through their bond. Like hearing the breaking of branches in an otherwise silent forest, it fills the blond with unease and makes his heart hammer even faster against his ribcage.

Steve shifts in an attempt to escape the demon's grasp, but Bucky's hold is tight and only pulls the blond back against him. When the cadet struggles on instinct, the demon turns them onto their sides, cradling the blond between his chest and the wall.

Without realising, Steve's breathing increases: every exhale is a low pant and every inhale is a sharp gasp. That is, until the moment the demon cups the blond's face within his palms, and the cadet almost stops breathing altogether from the sheer tenderness.

“I didn't want it to look at you,” the demon admits, voice soft and kind, as if in apology.“That is why I pulled you away.”

“Nothing would have happened, Bucky...” Steve replies quietly, not daring (or wanting) to move from the demon's embrace.

“I know. I just acted on impulse.” The demon's warm whispers caress Steve's skin, right next to where Bucky's thumbs slowly stroke the cadet's cheeks.

“Alright, I understand.” _You were just protecting me._

Demons (although they can be very calculating, and even cruel) above all, follow their instincts. In humans, this intuition has the purpose of survival. However, for demons, the impulses they act upon are for nothing but to allow them to _thrive._

So, why does this demon have such a strong urge to protect the little blond within his arms? Or perhaps, the demon is merely concealing what belongs to him. Like a leopard hiding its kill- out of reach from anything that dares to take it.

Steve cannot help but wonder why Bucky has this primal nature to him that he can't quite figure out. The blond knows the demon protects him, even if Steve believes that to be far from necessary- as if defending him from the threats the young human can not perceive. Bucky heals the aches in his limbs and warms the coldness in his chest... but... _why?_

What is Bucky's goal, and the reason behind his every move?

Surely the demon gains nothing from being with the blond? Bonding with the human has stripped Bucky of his freedom, as if he has been shackled to the earth. Though the chains that bind him might as well be tethering him to stunning golden lights, deep blue waters and smooth, soft snow that melts beneath his finger tips. The demon does not feel imprisoned.

Steve is desperate to ask why the demon willingly holds the blond in his arms. He wants to ask about the past that is shrouded in darkness, as if it's painful for the demon to relive... Steve wants to ask his demon why... why won't Bucky share his story, when the blond is so willing to tell the demon his own?

But most of all, Steve wants to asks if Bucky feels the same thrill when their naked flesh touch and their auras entwine. Yearning, and contentment, lust and pleasure. Steve wants to know if Bucky feels these things as much as he does.

And yet the blond can feel something else entirely new whenever they embrace, not just from himself; it pulsates through their bond and Steve knows the demon feels it to. But what exactly the emotion is, the younger man isn't sure. But it is a light sensation, and it only grows with each passing day. What began as a mere fragment, has crystallised and continues to spread like a slow-burning fire.

“What?” Steve smiles, staring back into the silver-flecked eyes that watch him so intently.

“Nothing, you just looked like you were thinking,” Bucky replies, his right hand falling from the cadet's rosy cheek to the dip of his waist.

Steve rests his head against Bucky's metallic palm, the demon's silver fingertips digging carefully into blond hair. The younger man's own hands lay pressed between their chests, the heat that radiates from the demon seeping into the cadet's flesh. Like lava oozing across the earth's surface, only to sink ever so deeper.

“I was.”

“You were thinking about me.” It's not a guess: Bucky _knows exactly_ when the blond is thinking about him.

“That's a rather confident statement,” Steve teases, shifting just enough so that their knees knock and slide against one another.

“Well, I should know,” Bucky says matter of factly.

“Why's that?”

“Because I was thinking about you too.” The demon smirks, though his grin is barely noticeable in the darkness of the room- not that Steve has to see it, to know of the demon's devilish grin.

“Oh really? What about me?” The demon has the blond intrigued.

“You get this look sometimes,” Bucky begins.

“A...look?” The blond's eyebrow raises as if questioning the demon.

“Mmm. When you are intrigued by something.” As the demon explains, his hand slips from the cadet's waist to the small of his back, pulling them closer together. “It's very... _stimulating.”_

Steve can't help but laugh at Bucky's choice of words. The blond's laughter is musical, like a siren's call, and the demon can only chuckle along with the cadet's infectious mirth. The younger man sighs after a moment, a little embarrassed as the laughter gently dies into serenity.

The pitter-patter of rain does nothing to dull to the crackle of thunder getting closer and closer. A flash of lightning bathes the room in an almost blue hue for a mere second, before enveloping them in near darkness once more. Sparks of white zig-zag across the grey sky, causing the clouds to glow just as brightly as the lights illuminating the buildings of the academy.

Relishing in the demon's touch, Steve can feel his eyes begin to drift shut; surprisingly comfortable resting the side of his face in the demon's metallic palm. As if Steve's form is perfectly moulded to align with his demon's... like this is how it's meant to be.

Although fragments of the puzzle may be missing, the outline is still there. Bucky is a tangible being, even with his past that (for now) remains a mystery. Steve can see the overall picture that the puzzle tries to show, and although there is darkness where fragments remain empty... the human is no less absorbed and full of fondness for his demon. Because maybe, just maybe, Steve can shine a light on the castaway pieces.

Perhaps only the unknown can explain the emotion that is embedded so very deep inside them both.

“I never meant to frighten you earlier,” Bucky whispers, softly enough that if the blond had fallen asleep, he would not have heard the demon's honest words.

Steve's eyes open, searching the demon's face in the dim light. The blond, if he looks closely enough, can see something akin to sadness. Silver orbs hold something Steve knows must be regret, but not just from this moment, but from his past as well.

“I wasn't afraid...” Steve replies back just faintly.

At Bucky's clearly unconvinced expression, the cadet leans up to rest on his elbows. The blond takes the demon's metallic wrist into his hand; meeting the demon's gaze as he brings the interlocking plates closer to his lips. Steve presses a chaste kiss to the demon's palm- beautiful silky skin upon a hardened, deadly surface. The metal feels cold to touch compared to how hot his lips feel.

The cadet smiles shyly at his own actions, his eyes never once leaving the demon's. Bucky lets out an exhale that warms the younger man's cheeks, carefully sliding his fingers from the cadet's cheek, to rest under his chin. The movement gently coaxes the blond towards him, just as the demon lifts his own head to meet the pink lips he has began to crave so much.

“I wasn't afraid of you,” the blond repeats a little louder, pulling back just enough to meet the demon's gaze. “And I am not afraid of you now.”

No, Steve had not been afraid. Even with his pounding heart and rapid breaths... he had not been afraid. It was not his own emotions that had flowed through him, but his demon's. The blond's body had reacted to the strong sensation Bucky seems to hide so well.

When Steve had a glimpse of that emotion... it had been too much for him to handle.

It had been as if Steve was in the beginnings of hyperventilating, the feel of something akin to dread had left his chest tight and icy slithers at the back of his neck. Perhaps, the cadet had felt a mere fraction of the nightmare Bucky lives with: his past.

~~Steve had felt the instability of Bucky's mind.~~

“Your capabilities...your past... it won't make me afraid of you,” the blond assures, more certain of this than anything else.

“How can you be so sure?” The demons asks, a slight hesitance to his words.

“Because... I just know.” Steve smiles, leaning in to kiss the demon again. The feel of his lips dragging over Bucky's...the heat of their breaths entwining, and the bond that hums in heavenly pleasure... It makes the blonds next words that much more true. “There is so much evil in the world, but I do not believe you are a part of it.”

The demon smiles at that, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes as he pulls the blond back against his chest. Steve settles into the crook of Bucky's neck, finding relief in the demon's familiar scent as well as peace from the storm outside the window.

“Goodnight, my little warrior,” Bucky whispers into the soft blond hair that tickles at his nose, his arms wrapped protectively around the blond's waist. The cadet's weight upon his chest (although light) grounds the demon. It calms his darkest shadows and puts to rest the bitter-tasting thoughts of his past.

“Goodnight, Bucky,” the younger man mumbles against the demon's bare skin. Though it isn't long before the blond murmurs for his demon's attention in the darkness. “Hey...”

“Mmm?”

“I'm sorry...” The younger man's voice is a mere breath, though the demon doesn't have to hear him to know exactly what he said.

“What for?”

“That you cannot be content with your past.”

        

Professor Kruger is (in simple terms) terrifying.

At a first glance, the tall man seems like any other enthusiastic professor: brown rimmed glasses and a neat grey suit, brown hair slicked to the sides. But then, if one looks closer, the anger in his jaw and the annoyance in his hardened gaze can be seen. His piercing eyes only intimidate the cadets who shuffle in their seats uncomfortably.

Steve recalls studying some of Professor Kruger's theories on demon behaviour -specifically the habits of fire and electricity classes- during his pre-military course. Though most of his work is based on inferring the meaning behind specific behaviour, focusing much of his theory on evolution and _survival of the fittest._

Kruger's published work is nothing but brilliant, and yet, he could be completely wrong. The blond does not agree with the way the professor treats demons in his analysis; referring to such creatures how one might look upon a stray dog. His distaste is evident, even going as far as to call demons _mutts_ in his earliest works.

The blond has never really agreed with that term, but now, he disagrees with it more than he cares to admit. Although Steve isn't exactly impartial on the matter any more. However, the blond is not the only cadet who finds the word _mutt_ unnecessary. It is an old-fashioned way of thinking, used to make demons seem less frightening by degrading them. But now, with science advancing, although the fear of demons is very real, the younger generations tend to embrace that.

“For our first lesson, I will talk about gateways, and how the process lures a demon through into our realm. More specifically, why human auras are used as bait.

“Any questions, you can leave them until the end.”

“What a ray of sunshine,” Clint sarcastically mutters.

While the _Avengers_ sit next to each other on one side of the lecture room, the rest of the first years align on the benches to the right. Their demons stand at the very back of the tall room, spread across the metallic wall just like statues. Kruger does not fail to notice how the beings stand further apart from Steve's demon. As if the dark class's presence disturbs them- like a wolf amongst a herd of sheep.

“Electronic pads are used to enhance a human's aura, sending a fragment of that energy into the demon realm. Demons, for whatever reason, are deeply attracted to auras. Therefore, using auras to entice demons through the gateway is most effective.

“However, there are limits to this. Only as of this year, has a demon of a significantly higher level crossed through the gateway using this technique. Usually lower level demons, the highest perhaps level forty, can be caught when auras are used as bait.

“Now, this attraction to auras goes back as far as we know. Although we are yet to understand why, or what use a demon has for seeking out auras. But most importantly, why high level demons cannot be trapped this way.

“One theory is that auras are used to find easy targets, or _prey._ It might be that only higher level demons have the capacity to think about how to go around getting their target effectively. Therefore, they resist the attraction to auras, going against the basic instinct low level demons appear to have.

Now, you may have heard some people referring to human auras as _essence,_ but this is not entirely correct. As doctor Erskine will tell you, humans do not have the same essence that demons have in their blood. However, it can be used as a general term for energy specific to individual humans and demons.”

Theories.

Most of what humans say about demons... are just theories being pulled together by great minds. Of course, the cadet is deeply intrigued by such theories.

Although now, Steve doesn't particularly like the idea that perhaps everything he has come to learn is _wrong._ That perhaps, everything Steve thought he knew about his own demon is incorrect. Spending time with Bucky has taught the blond to take the words written in his textbooks with a pinch of salt- to not trust the facts he had come to memorise.

But, his demon has also revealed so much to him, even if it seems so little. Bucky has told him how auras are raw energy, and how emotions can become entrapped in them. The demon has taught Steve the existence of a totally new, unexplored language. Steve knows that Bucky does not seek the company of other demons, for he sees them as mere children. Far inferior to the over eight-hundred year old demon.

If Steve had been bonded with any other demon, he doubts such truths would have been revealed to him. Even if the things the blond really wants to know, Bucky keeps silent about. As if there is a line between what the demon can say, and what he can never divulge. Or at least, not yet.

Kruger's lecture drags on for seemingly hours, and when he finally finishes, no one dares to question him. His words remind Steve of those in his father's journal- of how only low level demons can be tricked into the human realm. Which only makes the cadet wonder all over again if Bucky knew... that he would be bound to Steve until the very end.

“Damn...that guy is a piece of work,” Tony exclaims as the _Avengers_ head towards the canteen, their demons (as usual) following close behind them.

“Yeah, I'm surprised he ain't a demon himself,” Clint laughs, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets to shield them from the rain that falls upon them in petite droplets.

“Maybe he's _The Grinch.”_ Rhodey chuckles.

“Who is The Grinch?” Wanda asks with a delicately raised brow.

“The demon who stole Christmas,” Bruce softly interjects.

Steve stays silent next to Sam as they get closer to having warm food in their stomachs. The blond can almost feel the steam from the kitchen caressing his skin and the delicious scent of the food that they have become accustomed to.

“Well, Christmas is just a few weeks away,” Sam smiles, the rain never dampening his bright perspective- something Steve has always admired in his friend.

“Do you think Fury will let us go visit our families?” Bruce asks, full of hope even though he knows the answer already. It was one of the first things Fury had told them.

“Not a chance. We have to wait until this year is up,” Clint replies solemnly.

“Wade from the third year class told me that you have to fill out this long form too, otherwise you can't leave at all,” Rhodey explains.

In the relative quiet of the canteen, the cadets complain more about their new teacher, and how they wish to see their families. However, Steve says nothing at all. The blond doesn't even half-heartedly listen to the conversation during their lunch. Nor does he say anything when Sam and Tony coerce him into using the cycling machines in the Gym with the rest of the _Avengers._

Except from the quiet mutter when the blond excuses himself halfway through dinner that evening, Steve remains reticent. Regardless of the concerned look he receives from Sam. The cadet has something on his mind, and he cannot break free from the hold it has. Unlike the previous time, Steve cannot let the thoughts slide: he just has to _know._

It is eating at his insides, clawing its way through his every fibre of his being. Soon, there will be nothing left but bones and dust and an endless unknown.

Steve listens to the gentle _click_ as Bucky closes the door behind them. The dorms seem deadly silent, for Bucky and Steve are the only ones in the entire building.

The blond gnaws at his bottom lip, his back to the demon as he stares out at the darkening sky. Bucky steps tentatively closer to the younger man, feeling the cadet's agitation tremble through their bond. But before the demon's hand can interlace with Steve's own, the blond turns around to face his demon.

Steve can no longer hold back the question that slips past his lips.

“Did you come through the gateway on purpose?”

 


	18. Your Shadows Hold A Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Seventeen:  
> **Bucky confessed to knowing the light class demon from his time in the Netherworld.  
> **The cadets had their first lecture with Kruger about using auras to entice (reasonably low level) demons into the human realm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

****The demon remains silent, his expression a blank slate, watching the blond who in turn stares up to meet the demon's eyes. When Bucky makes no indication that he will give the cadet an answer, Steve repeats the question.

“Did you come through on purpose?”

Bucky finds himself fixating on those stubborn blue orbs that show no sign of surrender. The demon takes another step, almost pressing their chests together. The blond refuses to move away from Bucky's overpowering presence. Regardless of them being so close that the demon can see his own reflection in the blue mist of Steve's eyes.

It's only a moment later that the demon smiles at the blond, wholly teasing, and yet with such tender affection that the cadet finds warmth pooling into his tightened chest.

“Why would I do that?” The demon replies innocently.

Steve cannot gauge whether Bucky is actually covering up the fact that, yes, he did come through on purpose, or if the demon is merely entertaining the idea.

“It couldn't have been a mistake...”

“What makes you say that?”

“Your level, its... you must have _known.”_ There is no doubt in Steve's mind that Bucky knew that stepping through the gateway would lead him into a trap. Bucky is intelligent, resourceful and powerful... To accidentally become enchained by humans...it's surely not a possibility.

“Perhaps I did.”

“Then why? Why did you come through the gateway?” Bucky could have easily killed the blond and every other human once in the human realm, and yet, he had chosen not to. So what reason could there have even been to bother leaving the Netherworld in the first place?

The cadet cannot figure out the demon's aim for being _here._

Whether _here_ is the human realm or inches from the blond's stubborn form doesn't matter. Bucky moves with seemingly no aim: always observing quietly as if he has all of the time in the world to wait. When the demon is filled with passion and emotion, it is always directed at the young blond in his arms.

Steve is more than a little confused. Bucky wont give him a definite answer and the blond doubts he will be able to pry any clues from the demon's lips. Bucky cocks his head to the side, his mouth upturned in a soft smile as his metallic fingers reach up to press under the blond's chin, his thumb stretching to trace a velvety lower lip.

Bucky must have some ulterior motive, but there is no way for Steve to ever know. But, just maybe, the blond can ask something else. Something that the demon won't be able to resist answering.

“Do you like my aura?”

Startled by the question, the demon stills his movements for what feels likes hours, though in reality, only a few seconds pass. Steve cringes internally at his own question, the pinkened blush of his cheeks spreading across pale skin like patches of blossoming flowers. The demon leans in to gently nuzzle against the cadet; their cheeks rubbing together as their noses touch and their lips ever so lightly brush one another. Steve finds his eyes sliding shut in bliss, just as Bucky's does- as if mirroring the other's genuine, chaste pleasure.

Finally, Bucky takes the sides of Steve's face within his palms, pressing his forehead against the blond's. When Steve slowly opens his eyes, his gaze meets the demon's silver-flecked irises. For a moment, the blond feels like he is watching ocean waves crash upon the shore's sharpened rocks.

“Its beautiful.”

The demon's honest whisper sparks a shiver down Steve's spine, as if Bucky's words physically caress every surface of his hidden skin.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, more softly than his previously demanding questions.

In that very moment, Steve feels that he could break and shatter into little, insignificant fragments, if the demon doesn't _truly mean_ what he says. The cadet just needs some sort of confirmation that the words that leave the demon's lips, are undoubtedly true. Even if Steve can sense the honesty on his breath and the euphoria that they both share with one mere glimpse at the other.

“Yeah,” Bucky breathes out the word, as if there is no resistance behind it.

How could the demon not find Steve's aura attractive?

Whenever Bucky finds his gaze on the younger man, seeking out the warmth of his aura... The demon sees vibrant orange daylilies, or perhaps even a glowing amber crystal encasing the blond completely. Like smears of honey wrapping around his pale features, only to seep into the air around his form.

Yes: the sight is utterly breathtaking.

If Bucky was not a demon, he would surely be weak at the knees with just a glance. For Steve's scent -sweet like the tender embrace of his aura- permeates the demon's nose and tastes like sugar on the very tip of his tongue. Steve is the epitome of the only thing Bucky lusts for in that exact moment... and every moment from then on.

Perhaps the little human is all that the demon needs to settle the darkness within: to bring light to a mind that has ruptured in shadows.

Demons are attracted to auras like sharks to blood. Swarming in, relying on nothing but their instinct. But, predators with intelligence (like high level demons) do not go straight in for the kill. They dance around their prey, testing their limits and pushing their victims to the very edge.

Bucky is -and Steve knows this well- a hunter. A creature of darkness and of the unknown. Steve does not believe that the demon came through the gateway without a purpose; without understanding exactly what would happen to him.

It might be that the demon has a plan, but that... Steve has no clue as to its path. But the blond does not believe that he could ever possibly be a part of that plan. Then again, raw instincts can overpower every calculative thought one may have.

“Bucky...” The blond's slender fingers trail along the demon's arms to where his palms still caress the sides of Steve's face. The younger man takes Bucky's wrists, holding them in place rather than to push the demon away.

“Mmm?” The demon hums.

“ _Kiss me.”_

It isn't a command, but whether the cadet's words are demanding or pleading... the demon cannot help but react to them. Especially when the blond is asking for something that Bucky can so easily give to him.

With eyes that show nothing but a soft smile, the demon presses his lips firmly against the blond's. Bucky's hands trail down the cadet's smooth frame to plant at his hips, just as the blond simultaneously slinks his arms around the demon's shoulders.

Their kiss is steady with the synchronised movement of their lips, but the trace of desperation within them makes it forceful and utterly unyielding. It isn't long before Steve is gasping for breath, his fingers working at the hem of Bucky's shirt without a second to clarify his thoughts. The demon moans at the younger man's enthusiasm, breaking their kiss for barely a moment as Bucky hauls the shirt over his head.

The demon slips the cadet's jacket from his shoulders, just as effortlessly sliding the younger man's top from his skin as if the motion itself is nothing but natural.Their kiss is just as passionate as before, and Steve daringly flicks his tongue over Bucky's lips. The demon parts them just enough to allow the blond to deepen their kiss with a moan Bucky is more than elated to hear.

Steve's hands slide up the demon's chest, clenching at his shoulders where his nails dig ever so slightly into the heated flesh of Bucky's back; leaving behind little crescent indents that quickly fade.

The demon wraps his arms firmly around the blond's slim waist, pulling him up onto his tiptoes as their bare chests align. The gentle rubbing of smooth skin against taunt muscles has them both swallowing the other's moans.

The melody of their wet lips and eager, gasping breaths fill the room, drowning out the low clanks of the rusted pipes within the walls that surround them.

“Hold on to me,” the demon mutters against the warmth of the blond's mouth.

Steve instantly loops his arms across Bucky's broad shoulders as the demon lowers the cadet onto the balls of his feet. Not a second later, Bucky arches his back to grip under the blond's clothed thighs, hauling him up into his arms in one swift movement. Steve entwines his legs just above the demon's hips; heart beating rapidly and heat drifting through every fibre of his being.

Bucky's tender, firm touch upon his skin feels _so good._ It is as if every nerve is sparking with a burning need that the demon feels just as strongly.

Seemingly unable -or rather, not wanting- to break their kiss, the demon steps to carefully sit the younger man on the edge of the desk. The new position allows Bucky to roll his hips up against the blond's, who can all but release a loud moan at the friction it gives.

The younger man's body begins to ache beneath the layers of fabric that separate them, even if the stripped-bare skin of their chests provides a cool relief to the warmth that floods through him. The gentle glow in his chest inflames into something more frantic as it seeps to his inner thighs; the heated spark an embarrassing reminder that it wont be long until his cock is pink and hard in the confines of his underwear.

Anyone could enter the building, wander up to dorm floor and hear nothing but the moans that echo off the walls with each more forceful, grinding motion. But Steve's mind is so focused on Bucky, that he forgets everything he is risking.

The rutting of their hips comes to a reluctant stop as the blond pulls his lips inches from the demon's- breaking their kiss. Panting for breath, Steve's rosy blush upon his cheeks has spread to his collarbone, his face and thighs burning with a heat that the younger man has only ever felt with the demon. The sensation has become familiar, and whether that is a good or bad thing... Steve only knows that he craves more of it.

The blond's glistening mouth bursts into a radiant smile: eyes crinkling at the edges and white teeth shining in the dimly-lit room. Bucky cannot help but mirror it; one hand on the cadet's bare waist while the other rests at his barely covered hip, the weight of the cadet's arms upon his shoulders is oddly... _soothing._

But then, the younger man's expression becomes serious once more, and the demon can depict something akin to _hurt_ in the very depth of those blue eyes. Bucky leans in to press a kiss to those sweet lips, but the second before their lips meet, the cadet's voice rings softly in his ears.

“Why did you come through the gateway?”Steve asks, his tone timid and yet, almost pleading at the same time.

Bucky sighs, far from irritated: he finds the blond's stubbornness more endearing than it may be annoying. Even if the demon wants nothing more than to calm the blond's persistence with justifications; to settle the younger man's curiosity.

There are many things lurking within the shadows that one cannot see.

“Your aura... it is... _you_ are the most beautiful being I have ever laid eyes on,” the demon admits, whispering into the cadet's ear just as his lips caress soft, pale skin.

“That doesn't answer my question...” The blond stares into the demon's silver-tinted eyes, despite his cheeks surely becoming more red with the compliment.

The warmth of Bucky's breath grazes the cadet's jawline as the demon becomes silent. Steve cannot figure out the demon's thoughts, regardless of the emotions that vibrate back and forth through their bond.

The demon faintly trails down the blond's throat, eliciting a gasp as Bucky's mouth presses firmly against the exposed skin, feeling the erratic pulse beneath the surface against his lips.

“You can trust me, Bucky,” Steve says, barely above a whisper, though that makes his words no less true. The younger man is met with a reply spoken so tenderly, he isn't quite sure how it couldn't be the answer that he craves for.

“I know, _my little warrior.”_ The demon leans back to gaze down at the blond, whose hands slowly fall from Bucky's shoulders. “But there are some questions I cannot answer.”

        

Steve should have seen it coming. In-fact, they all should have. But for some reason, the cadet's mind is too distracted to even comprehend the fact that, of course, six months into the demon programme, they would be required to have a health exam.

It's enough to make the blond feel sick to his stomach.

The message on their watches came through a little before their morning run, a few days after their first lecture with Kruger. As soon as Steve read that they will being having a health test the upcoming Monday... the cadet had felt nothing but nerves prickling under his skin.

The cadet is apprehensive, because although technically he _is_ healthy enough to continue the programme, the constant worry that maybe he _isn't_ eats away at his mind. The blond didn't go through expensive medical bills just to get kicked out of the programme, rendering the money used -that Steve sometimes thinks could have been better spent- utterly pointless.

So yes, the cadet feels nauseous to the point where he almost threw up after a particularly long session in the Gym. Even Bucky's hand on the small of his back or around his waist in the middle of the night can't completely dissipate all of his anxiety induced thoughts.

The examination is supposed to take an hour- blood, eyes, pressure, lung, heart and respiration rate tests are required. But, it isn't until that day that Clint (after his own examination) informs the rest of the _Avengers_ that their demons will also be looked at.

Not just this, but their _bond_ will also be under scrutiny.

“I'll admit that I'm a little nervous too,” Tony assures the blond. “You'll be fine.”

“How can you tell I'm nervous?” Steve asks as they slowly get further from the dorms. The sky is a light grey with the promise of rain soon to fall. The ground is still wet and the buildings still shine from the previous night's torrent.

“You look like a deer caught in the headlights,” the other cadet laughs, far from malicious or mocking.

“Ha. Funny,” the blond replies sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, though a little amused with Tony's seemingly contagious mirth. But the atmosphere quickly changes and the dark haired cadet becomes more serious than Steve has ever seen him.

“And your demon is closer to you than usual.”

“What?” Steve's smile instantly fades into a shocked expression he cannot suppress. “What do you mean by that?”

“It's like he's trying to comfort you.”

“Why would he do that?” The younger man tries to feign ignorance- as if he doesn't believe Bucky would ever want to comfort him. Even though Steve knows the demon does so (all the time) in his very own, unique way.

“Maybe it isn't such a far-fetched idea that our bonded demons may come to like us.”

Steve glances at the other cadet, only to find Tony discreetly watching his blonde demon from the corner of his eye. In that moment, the dark haired cadet looks as if he truly wants his words to be be more than just a mere possibility. That perhaps, demons are capable of liking something that doesn't end in destruction or death.

The people that choose to believe the idea that demons are able to hold more complex feelings -especially towards humans- have always been the joke of demonology. Demons are not seen to be kind, but calculating and slaves to their basic instinct to survive and cause chaos. For those (and these people are few and far between) who think that intelligent demons are able to develop _emotions_ are usually discredited or at the very least frowned upon in society.

Demons are seen as creatures below the rank of animals. Incapable of guilt, sympathy or affection... They do not feel remorse for their actions, regardless of how many bodies become buried in the earth. They are not seen as caring or able to look after anyone but themselves.

Those are the words Steve has read over and over in his textbook. But as the blond thinks of his own demon... of the bond they share and every interaction between them, big or small, the cadet knows there is something that humans are missing. Something that many are unaware of, and yet Steve has experienced the effects of it first hand.

An emotion so rarely found in demons, Steve may be the first to ever witness it.

Akin to desire, respect and kindness: it is there. It _has_ to be. Because the alternative isn't at all pleasant.

“There is a lot we don't know about demon behaviour...” The blond sighs, pulling at the sleeves of his grey hoodie.

“Yeah, but then again, maybe our demons just learn to tolerate us.”

Just the mere thought unsettles the blond, but is does distract him from his impending examination.

“Well, I have to go this way.” Steve jerks his head in the direction of the labs.

“Okay, I'm heading to the Knowledge Centre. I'll see you later.” Tony waves the cadet off as they say their goodbyes.

Steve and Bucky quickly turn left, working their way through a small maze of buildings before finally arriving at a long establishment set apart from the main laboratories. There are no soldiers stationed outside the building, and the inside is oddly quiet, with a singular long hallway that splits into numerous clinical rooms on either side. The faint thud of their footsteps echo in the corridor as they head towards the only open door.

Just before Steve can take a peek around the door frame, Bucky grabs his wrist. The cadet instantly turns to look up at the demon. Bucky leans in a little closer, his voice low, but full of so much certainty that Steve finds it hard not to believe his words.

“You are a soldier.”

A gentle reminder to soothe the blond's apprehension, as if the demon wishes to comfort the younger man, regardless of how trivial and unfounded his worries may be. Although his demon's touch never fails to calm him, sometimes, it takes a few mere words from Bucky to put all of his troublesome thoughts to rest.

The corners of Steve's mouth turn up ever so slightly, but it is enough for the demon to see the smile and the _warmth_ that undoubtedly radiates from the blond. Bucky slowly releases his grip on the cadet, but not before rubbing his fingers against the pale skin of Steve's inner-wrist. Like newly-bloomed petals, the blond's skin is soft and silky under his fingertips.

Steve angles his head around the doorway, searching the large white room for another human being. One large metallic desk rests to the far side of the room, a wide screen embedded into the wall above it while an electronic keyboard lay neatly placed upon the desk. Next to it an electronic tablet displays a file that distinctly reads _S.G.Rogers_ upon the front.

As the blond takes in the rest of the room, he notices the strange box in the centre. The container is almost as tall as the room, and as wide as a police-interview room, with a glass window spread across its length. Inside is lined with grey metal, and the box is divided in half by tinted glass.

That's when Steve notices a woman standing by a small screen which dangles from the ceiling in front of the strange box. The woman is tall, but her frame is narrow with only a slight curve of her hips. Her dark brown hair is tied into a low bun against her neck, her side fringe covering one of her sleek eyebrows. Sharp cheekbones compliment pink, full lips and thin, blue eyes.

The woman turns around, her lab coat swishing behind her as if she were wearing a cape. Looking up to find the blond and his demon standing by the door, the woman smiles warmly at them.

“Come on in, you must be Steve Rogers,” she says enthusiastically with a wave of her hand. “I'm Doctor Maria Hill, it's a pleasure to meet you.”

“It's nice to meet you too, ma'am.” The blond slowly steps into the room as the woman comes closer. Steve doesn't think she can be much older than mid-thirties.

“Maria is fine,” Doctor Hill responds with a smile. The cadet immediately takes a liking to her.

“I hope I'm not too early.”

“Not at all, you're right on time. Is this your demon here?” Maria asks, her gaze quickly moving up and down Bucky's form, appearing impressed. “Quite the specimen.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you the cadet with the dark class by any chance? I haven't had the time to read your file yet.”

“Ah, yes...” The blond admits a little shyly.

“Wow, I've never seen one up close before.” Maria smiles so brightly, the cadet is sure her cheeks must be hurting. The woman is clearly interested in the particulars of demons: as if they are deadly creatures to be studied in a positive light, rather than in fear of their capabilities. “What is his type?”

“Warrior. Um, although, the tests say he used to be a trickster type.”

“Really? Fascinating.” The cadet would have thought her words sarcastic if it wasn't for her shining eyes and the smile that radiates kindness. “What demon characteristics does he have?”

“He has wings,” the blond informs her, very aware of Bucky's presence a few inches behind him.

Talking about Bucky -while the demon is in the same room- feels nothing but odd. Steve knows the demon can answer Maria's questions, and knows just how talkative and inquisitive the demon can be when they are alone. But in this situation, Bucky cannot speak, or rather, he _shouldn't_ say a word. If the demon were to reveal his in-depth knowledge of the human language... Steve cannot even begin to comprehend the amount of tests that would be inflicted upon his demon.

Just the mere thought of Bucky being locked away, unbonded from the blond and tortured with science in search of the truth behind the extraordinary demon... his heart aches with a pain the cadet has never felt before. Steve wants to protect Bucky, even if he doesn't realise just how far he will go to conceal what other humans cannot know of. But it is not one sided, Bucky is just as willing to protect the blond from everything that may come between them.

Be it human or demon, or something else entirely.

“Scaled or feathered?”

“Feathered, they're black.” Steve can almost feel their warmth and tenderness wrapped around his body, even if they are buried deep in the demon's spine.

“What a sight to see, I'm sure.” Maria's gaze slowly moves up and down the demon's form, as if inspecting him with more interest than before. “Does he not have any other traits?”

“No, ma'am. Uh- Maria,” Steve corrects himself with an embarrassed blush.

“Do you know if he has a non-human form? Some demons, especially the higher classes, are usually only discovered in human-like bodies. We're not sure if it's a permanent change, or if they've always been that way; seen as we don't have low level versions to compare them with...”

“This is just his regular form... minus the wings,” Steve replies, uncertain of the true accuracy of his knowledge.

“I see... Well, life is but a journey of learning.” Maria turns on her heels with a smile, her voice echoing in the laboratory. “Let's begin, shall we?”

Doctor Hill leads them to the side near the desk, where a strange white square protrudes from the floor. It is no more than a few inches in height, but the top surface is large enough for one to stand comfortably upon it.

“Step onto this please.” Maria gestures towards the platform and the cadet tentatively steps onto it. Although the box doesn't shift under his weight, its edges light up green. Simultaneously, the screen above the desk shows a blue, hollow 3D outline of a slim figure.

Bucky watches the blond closely, standing only a few feet away with his arms folded as if he would rather be anywhere else but here. Albeit Steve knows that isn't true. The demon doesn't mind where he is, as long as it's with the young blond.

“What does this do exactly?” Steve asks.

“Everything. Well, almost everything. We can't measure your bond with this, that's what the other machine is for,” Doctor Hill replies quickly, taking the electronic tablet from the desk into the palms of her hands.

“And what about compatibility?”

“We'll measure that in the big machine too: it's more accurate than just using the analysis programmes on the tablets.”

“How long does it take?”

“A thorough analysis takes twenty minutes or so. I'll walk you through the process when we get to that. But, for now, I'll start with taking your weight,” Maria explains as she taps at the screen of the tablet.

Seconds later, different black numbers appear on the large electronic display- none of which make any sense to the blond. Steve can feel the platform buzzing ever so slightly- as if energy is coursing through it.

“Your weight and BMI are really good, and your muscle mass has increased slightly too. For someone of your height and stature, you're in really good shape,” Maria compliments the blond, clearly surprised by the fact that the cadet is stronger than he looks.

Steve finds himself releasing a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, finally relaxing as every one of his cells are analysed. The blond (although he doesn't consciously seek it out) meets the demon's gaze. It is like his body automatically looks for Bucky, as one might search for someone they cherish dearly in a crowd of unfamiliar faces. Though the cadet has no idea just how deep those feelings go. Not that Steve even has an inkling as to what his emotions actually are. Or rather, just how much trouble they could cause him.

The blue outline of Steve's form on the large screen quickly zooms in to display a light blue image of a transparent, beating heart. White lines swirl through the heart with every pulse as they imitate Steve's blood throbbing through his vessels.

“Heart rate is good, a little lower than noted in your file. Are you perhaps less nervous today?” Maria questions, not looking up from the screen as Steve's attention snaps to her.

“Ah, um, I guess so,” Steve fumbles. Though if he was to be honest, he knows that it is Bucky who settles his heart, even if at times the demon can make it terribly erratic.

“Your blood pressure is within the expected limits too. Now, your lungs...” Doctor Hill trails off as the heart simulation dissolves into a pair of electronic lungs. Maria waits several minutes before continuing, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. “Lungs look great, and so is your respiration rate.”

Steve is a little impressed at how Maria can know all of this, just from the cadet merely standing on a podium. The blond thinks Bucky would also be impressed too if he was even listening to the doctor. But, the demon is listening. In fact, the demon is listening very intently, though Maria says nothing Bucky doesn't know already. The demon _knows_ the cadet is healthy- he can sense it. Just like how demons know when someone is close to death, they also know when a human is brimming with life.

“I'll just do a scan of the eyes, and we'll then move on to your demon, if that's okay?” Maria declares, typing something on the electronic tablet.

“Uh, yes. That's fine...” Steve is sure that he sees something blue flash in his vision, just as a transparent picture of blue-outlined eyes appear on the screen. Every neuron and vessel can be seen as vibrant vines gathering together.

“Brilliant. Everything looks fine, especially considering I thought your demon would have worn you down by now. You must have good stamina.”

“Thank you.” The blond isn't quite sure what Maria means by that, but he can only assume that other demons tend to give their bonded humans a lot of grief.

Demons can be frustrating, and eventually, some soldiers give in to the exhaustion. Bonding can take its toll on both human and demon, although it is the humans that tend not to recover so quickly. Manifesting is also an issue: if one's compatibility with their demon is low, the creation of a weapon is much, _much_ harder.

“Alright, then. Get your demon to switch places with you so I can analyse him,” Maria instructs the blond.

Steve steps down from the podium, gesturing for Bucky to stand on it with a nod of his head. The demon obeys without the need for words. While other demons may growl in defiance or outright refuse any instruction, Bucky sees no reason for any protests. If the blond wants Bucky to do something, the demon is more than willing to comply.

“That was quick.” The doctor turns to look at them with raised brows. “You must have good control of him.”

Steve doesn't think that is entirely true, but he doesn't bother arguing against it. Though in reality, if the blond were to deny his control over the demon... the worst consequence of that could be their unbonding. The thought of which is nothing but terrifying.

Bucky looks down at the blond as he straightens his back, arms folding over his chest. The edges of the box illuminate red as the screen shows a much larger, broad-shouldered, purple form.

“His muscle mass is huge! He's the strongest demon I've ever analysed. Do you know how much he can lift?” Doctor Hill asks enthusiastically.

“I'm not sure of his limits yet...” The cadet replies softly, skeptical as to whether he will actually discover everything Bucky is capable of. The demon surely has limits beyond any human comprehension, and it is only the young blond who has a chance of ever witnessing that power.

“Well, tell me when you do find out- I'm dying to know.” Maria stares in awe at the screen, her expression one might associate with being in a daze. “A truly wonderful specimen.”

“Thank you,” Steve replies awkwardly, cringing at her choice of words.

To refer to Bucky as a _specimen..._ the blond certainly doesn't see the appeal to it. Even though the doctor means no offence, Steve does feel that it dehumanises the demon. As peculiar as that may sound. The word makes Bucky seem like a dead creature under scrutiny, rather than the being Steve sees him as.

“Everything looks good here too. Everything else is within normal levels. Although, I do wonder... Your demon is rather strange,” Maria admits, composed, collected and wholly serious.

“How so?” The blond questions her anxiously.

“Although there are a few cases where parts of demons have been replaced with metal or other substances- either in the Netherworld or by human interference... I'm not entirely sure what your demon's arm is made from.”

What exactly is Steve supposed to say to that?

_I have no idea either._

_I don't even know why his arm is metal._

_I have no clue as to how it may have happened._

_I don't know of his past._

~~_And yet, when he holds me in his arms, I find myself forgetting all of that._ ~~

~~_I only hope that, one day, he will trust me enough to tell me everything: for there is no way my feelings could ever waver with the details of his past._ ~~

Steve nervously fiddles with the hem of his sleeves, glancing at the demon to find a mischievous grin in his eyes. The demon clearly finds amusement in Maria's confusion. But when Bucky meets Steve's gaze, that enjoyment turns into something else that reflects in the younger man's blue irises.

A tenderness, and a yearning for the other. Like a slow-burning flame, it scorches the flesh of the other before caressing with affection and resolute devotion. Passion and lust that only melts into fondness and infatuation.

Both human and demon feel these sensations. But neither quite understand just how far those feelings are rooted, nor of the promise it gives for their future.

“I've finished inputting both of your physical data, so we can analyse your bond next.” Maria informs them as the large screen swiftly turns blank with darkness.

“What exactly do you look for when analysing the bond?”

“Stability, mostly: the bond must be stable by now, and we have to do a thorough check to make sure of it. Otherwise it could lead to major complications.” Doctor Hill motions them towards the large container situated rather ominously to the side. “Strength is also a factor we look into.”

“Strength?” The blond asks, jerking his head slightly to signal his demon to follow. Bucky's boots thud against the ground with each step, without a care of just how dominant his presence is. While other demons may try to sneak into the corners of a room, to try and disappear into the background, Bucky makes no such efforts.

“Yes, a stronger bond tends to mean the weapons manifested can do more damage,” Maria explains.

“And what of compatibility?”

“Compatibility comes down to many factors. Such as the strength of the bond, its stability, and ultimately the potential for power transfer.”

“Power transfer?” Steve repeats the unfamiliar term, although the cadet has a good guess as to what she means.

“When you manifest a weapon, a power transfer is involved, where you use some of your demon's powers.” Maria presses her hand to the screen that dangles beside the container. The display lights up around her palm and two doors slide open; each allowing access to one side of the box. “Put your demon in the right section, then you can stand in the left while I set up the calibration.”

Steve does as instructed, motioning to the machine with a slightly cocked head and a raised brow to which the demon merely smirks in response. Bucky's hand trails across the blond's knuckles as he passes the younger man, leaving a wonderful heat with his nonchalant touch. Bucky slips through the opening into the centre of the compartment, watching as the cadet mimics his movements on the other side.

The blond is able to perceive his demon's form through the grey-frosted glass, but can only barely make out his expression. Albeit, the younger man knows exactly what Bucky's face would look like if he could see it: handsome and _stoic._ But Steve can feel the emotions that do not reveal themselves with one mere glance at the demon.

Even though Steve could reach out his hand, and Bucky could do the same, and all that would separate them would be an inch of glass... the other being feels too far away, even if the demon can sense the blond with an impulsive ease.

The sound of the doors closing echo in the machine and the blond can feel the vibration in his toes. The rhythmic beat becomes a loud thundering roar that spreads across the walls of the container, reverberating in the cadet's ears.

Steve is sure the metallic components inside the the walls are sliding against one another like tectonic plates in the earth: shaking the blond's balance. Though outside the containers, Maria is none the wiser- all she feels is a faint drumming underneath her. Similar to how one might hear drums being played in another building.

Bucky notices it first. How the glass becomes dotted with black marks- towards the centre at first, but they quickly multiply and eventually consume the whole panel in darkness. So black, that the cadet can no longer depict his demon on the other side.

But, through the window to Steve's right, he can see doctor Hill watching the small screen intently, as if she isn't quite sure what she is seeing. The blond has no idea what Maria is discovering, but he knows it must be something significant, and perhaps even remarkable. There are no other words that can be used to describe their bond, especially with a demon so exceptionally unique.

The younger man only knows how much time has passed with the flickering of his watch: it felt so much longer than the fifteen minutes until the doors reopened. The machine drones into a gentle silence and the frosted-glass seeps back into its original grey tinge. As if the glass itself absorbed all of the ink-like blackness that can only be associated with a dark class.

Steve steps out of the strange machine, his demon (having sensed the cadet's movements) following shortly behind to acknowledge the quiet woman. Maria turns off the small screen before the blond can examine the images displayed.

“Well, the bond is stable... that's for sure...” Maria mutters quietly, though the cadet hears her regardless in the room that has become almost silent.

“What of its strength?” Steve inquires, becoming more nervous with each _thump thump_ of his heart against his ribcage.

“It's really good. You'll be a great soldier.”

Although the compliment should make Steve feel happy, perhaps even ecstatic... it is not the same as when Bucky utters those words.

“Is there something wrong?”

“There isn't anything _wrong,_ as such.” Doctor Hill attempts to comfort the younger man, before turning to him with a sigh. “It's your compatibility.”

“What of it? Has it decreased?” Steve can't see that happening, not in any circumstance. Albeit the doctor's hesitance concerns the blond.

“Not at all, in fact, quite the opposite... Your bond is strong and stable, and you both hold the potential for amazing things.”

“But?” Steve prods, desperate to know.

“I have never seen a human and demon be so compatible. There is no telling what we can learn from you. From you both.” Maria's voice has that hint of excitement to it, as if she can't quite believe what she is saying.

“You said it hadn't decreased,” the cadet remarks calmly, although he feels anything but serene.

“What was the value of your last compatibility reading?” Maria suddenly asks.

“At first, it was eighty-five percent, but during manifesting Fury said it had gone up to ninety percent. But that was a while ago...” Steve's voice softens as his words trail off- the doctor would know this already if she had read his file properly.

“Usually an accurate compatibility isn't far off the estimated value, and it is of course totally possible for compatibility to increase as the bond settles. That is why we do accurate values now, you see.”

Of course, that makes sense. Why bother taking an accurate reading when the compatibility is bound to change by a few percent? Not only does their bond need to stabilise, but human and demon must come to terms with one another- though for many, that is easier said than done.

The blond nods his head in understanding, though he can't help but feel like Maria is avoiding the answer that Steve so desperately wants to hear.

Maria looks down at the electronic tablet gripped tightly between her thumbs and slender fingers, and the younger man takes the opportunity to sneak a glimpse at his demon. Bucky's eyes are focused solely on the blond; entirely indifferent to Maria's unsteady, seemingly overwhelmed voice.

“Your compatibility has risen to ninety-seven percent.”

 


	19. Your Darkness Does Not Suffocate The Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Eighteen:  
> **Steve questioned Bucky about whether he came through into the human realm on purpose, but Bucky dodged the question.  
> **Bucky and Steve had their health exam with Dr. Maria Hill, where they found out that their compatibility had risen to 97%.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

****Ninety-seven percent.

The highest compatibility Steve -or rather anyone- has ever heard of. The cadet almost can't believe it, and still, later that night, he struggles to comprehend just what Maria had told him.

Steve isn't quite sure what comes next. Doctor Hill had informed him that they will be keeping an eye on the bonded pair, and even more so when they begin their first field mission. But that is a little while off, and for now the blond can rest knowing that there is so much potential that they can fulfil. And undoubtedly, they will fulfil it together.

Human and demon.

A warrior and a creature of darkness.

A bond with more power coursing through it that anyone can dare imagine.

The blond feels a distinct, pleasurable sensation in his stomach whenever he considers the endless possibilities. That perhaps, Steve and Bucky can do so much good- save so many lives and protect those who are defenceless against demons. Steve knows that their compatibility only breaches the surface of what makes their bond so unique.

Bucky is incredible, secretive and perplexing, but no less enthralling. Steve is as deeply captivated by the demon, and he is by the little blond. The cadet trusts Bucky to be beside him, and to tell stories no one has ever heard, even if so much remains a mystery.

The relationship between the two... it is not something that can be said out loud to judgemental ears. For it is no longer as simple as a soldier and the demon that they command.

Not that Steve can even begin to truly define their relationship.

“You've been quiet recently,” a voice echoes next to the blond.

“Hm?” Steve looks up from his bowl of pasta to meet Sam's gaze.

“Since the health test,” the other cadet points out, voice clearly full of concern and curiosity. None of the other _Avengers_ seem to notice their conversation as they eat and talk amongst themselves. “Something on your mind?”

“Ah, I was just thinking about compatibility.”

“You didn't mention anything after your exam, did it go down?”

“No, it went up.” The blond's voice is soft compared to the harsh noises that fill the canteen- the clash of plates and the bellow of laughter.

“Up?” Sam's brows raise in interest.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I suppose that was bound to happen. Even the compatibility with my demon increased by a few percent.”

“It went up by more than a few percent,” the blond deadpans, unsure of how else to say it.

“Really? What compatibility are you at now?”

“Ninety-seven percent,” Steve mutters under his breath, only loud enough for Sam to hear. The cadet does not wish to evoke any sort of jealousy from his team-mates. Steve and Bucky's compatibility was already unusually high enough, so for it to have only increased... it puts Steve on a totally different level to his friends.

“I bet they're only saying that because they don't know what one hundred percent compatibility looks like.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, they probably wouldn't know what one hundred percent looked liked, even if it was right in front of them.” Sam pauses, taking a bite out of his apple before continuing. “You and your demon... your bond is pretty unique. It wouldn't surprise me if its the epitome of what every soldier should aim for.”

“Sam...” Steve smiles at the praise, feeling more at ease than he has been all day.

Their bond is not just powerful, it is a beautiful thing, and it is only as such because of the two beings that are connected through it. The blond wants to show the world just how good of a soldier he ~~can be~~ is. Steve does not need their rarity to be something to conceal, but to honestly embrace.

Maybe even to show the world that not all demons are creatures to necessarily fear, but to see them as potential ~~companions~~ warriors in a battle humans cannot face alone.

“Don't tell anyone I said that,” Sam chuckles.

“Mm, no promises,” the blond teases, grinning as the other cadet nudges him with a brush of their shoulders.

“Hey, what are you two being so secretive about?” Clint interrupts the pair with a smirk, leaning across the table.

“Probably about how you tried to chat up that fourth year and failed miserably,” Tony interjects. The words would seem harsh if it wasn't for the usual ambience of banter that surrounds them whenever the group have a moment to relax.

Steve shakes his head as the two exchange retorts and teasing jests until Rhodey has to tell them off for being far too loud- even if he was laughing along with them. While in the confines of the cafeteria, the ongoing war outside seems so far away. The cadets -no matter which year of training they are in- can enjoy the comforts of warm food and the company of their allies, without fearing for their lives.

It is almost contradictory. Humans entrap demons to be by their side, only to fight the demons that have filled many of their nightmares. Soldiers use their bonded demons for the good of mankind, and yet, even though Steve is very much doing the exact same thing, he can't help but feel guilty for the demons that want nothing more than their freedom. Or at the very least, no longer wish to be caged like animals, albeit the majority describe them as just that.

Before being bonded with Bucky, the blond had no idea about demon intelligence. So witnessing first hand how demons can be capable of more than causing destruction... Steve wants to share it with the world, and yet... a selfish part of him wants to hide the true extent of his demon's potential from everyone else. Because although the blond wants to protect others and achieve peace (somehow, some way) he cannot do that with his own demon locked away and tormented with abusive tests.

So, Steve will remain quiet and be the good soldier he is meant to be, with a powerful demon he supposedly controls. But in the tranquillity of his private room, their relationship can blossom openly and the blond can embrace his demon's shadows. The darkness can consume the younger man and envelop him with the knowledge that can only ever stay between the two of them.

        

“The Demon War began in  _1914_ and ended in  _1945._ This period of time is one of the only known cases of demons fighting amongst themselves, and resulted in not only the deaths of many demons, but humans as well.

“Millions died as a result of so many demons invading the human realm at once. We do not know why the demons came through from the Netherworld, nor do we know why they were killing one another. Their aim is something we do not know, and can only speculate about.” Kruger stands at the front of the small room, stating facts that the cadets should have come to know of during their pre-military course.

The young cadets sit at the tightly packed, metal desks in two neat rows; not daring to utter a sound as Kruger watches them- much like how a vulture stares at a carcass. Each bonded demon stands directly behind their human, being scrutinised by the demonologist just as much as the cadets.

“All types, classes and levels of demons were involved in The Demon War, and before this time, demons fighting amongst themselves to the point of death was unheard of. There was no discrimination between demons, and many humans got caught up in the chaos.

“One theory, is that demons were fighting over territory. It may be that the Netherworld became so overrun with demons, that they sought out new lands to take. Particular classes tend to be more territorial, or aggressive, than others. This being mainly fire classes.

“However, a different theory looks at resources other than territory. We are unsure what demons eat to survive in the Netherworld, and it may be that either their food source ran out, or that they were merely seeking out better prey: humans,” Kruger explains, the only illustration to his words a fingertip to the rim of his glasses as he pushes them more securely in place. The man is otherwise monotonous, as if reciting an ancient text and not something he should be passionate about.

The cadets struggle to keep their notes at the same pace as the information Kruger lectures to them. Without a screen organising his thoughts, the future soldiers have to rely on their hearing to take in all of the material they will surely need for Kruger's _surprise exams_ as the second years had warned them.

“These are the most logical theories, and there are certainly many outrageous ones. Some believe that a disagreement occurred, while others say that the demons were searching for something, and killing one another to be the first to find it.” Kruger folds his arms across his chest in a gesture of boredom. “Any questions?”

“How can we find out which theory is correct?” Bruce asks, only to earn a glare in return for not putting his hand up first.

“We can't. Demons lack the capabilities to tell us for a start. And although we do not know exactly how long demons live for, it is unlikely any alive today would have been present during the war.”

Steve feels a jolt of shock run through him, his fingers pausing millimetres above the sleek buttons of his laptop. The blond has to process Kruger's words before he realises the weight of them. It doesn't take a genius to do the maths. Bucky is over eight-hundred years old -or at least that's what the demon had confessed- so he _must_ have been alive for The Demon War. The cadet had never once considered it, the thought hadn't even crossed his mind until the very moment he realises that Bucky holds the answer.

The answer demonologists have been trying so hard to discover for hundreds of years. The question has been debated and argued and people have died dedicating their lives to answering it.

The cause of The Demon War...

Bucky _knows_ the answer.

For he has _lived_ it.

Steve has to resist turning around right then and there to question the demon. But, the cadet slowly continues to type, never once deviating from so-called facts, for that way Steve knows nothing he writes can put Bucky at risk. However, the blond cannot stop thinking about it, borderline desperate to know the answer- for Steve knows his demon has it.

It isn't until the trucks come to a complete standstill, and the soldiers retire to their rooms as darkness settles upon the academy, that the blond gently whispers his demon's name into the night.

Bucky merely wraps his arms tighter around the blond's waist in reply; completely absorbed in the younger man's sweet scent and the subdued pounding of his heart. That is, until he whispers a little louder and the demon finally cranes his neck to look down at the blond pressed against his chest.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks quietly, to which the younger man nods his head slightly. Even in the almost complete darkness, the demon can see every inch of the blond's pale skin and the eyes that rest half-shut. “Something you want to ask me?” The demon teases with a smile.

“Mmm, I wanted to ask you earlier...” Steve lazily slips from the demon's hold, using one hand to push his upper body from the mattress to stare down at Bucky. Silver-flecked eyes gaze right back at him.

“But?” The demon gently encourages the blond to continue.

“I wasn't sure how,” the cadet admits, a little flustered, his right hand resting on the demon's muscular abdomen.

“Is it about what that human said during your class?” The demon hadn't bothered to learn his name, nor does he have any intention to ever memorise it.

“Yeah...”

“There isn't much for me to tell you,” Bucky's claims, but the lack of emotion in his tone suggests very differently.

“But, you were there for the war... Did you... _fight?”_ Steve hesitantly questions the demon.

Bucky is so powerful... so full of strength and intelligence, that it seems almost impossible for the demon to have not been in the midst of war at one point or another. The demon's next words merely confirm that logic.

“I fought many a battle during that time.”

“You came into the human realm?”

“The war did not just take place in your world, but my own too,” Bucky confesses, shifting his arms to rest underneath his head. Steve's eyes flicker to the movement of muscles that seem to almost flow with a deadly elegance.

“So you were fighting in the Netherworld?” Steve cannot even begin to imagine the utter chaos there must have been. Lost in the demon's eyes and his own thoughts, the blond doesn't even notice how his fingertips begin to rub against Bucky's stomach.

“Yes, much of the war occurred there.”

“But... there was so much destruction here. So many demons were killing each other, and you're saying that there was even more fighting in your realm?” Steve asks in disbelief.

“That is exactly what I am saying,” the demon assures him, seemingly unaffected by such thoughts.

“That means that demons couldn't have been trying to get more land, or even more food, if the majority of the war didn't even occur here.” The blond bites his lower lip in an effort to figure out exactly what must have happened to cause such destruction and death to come about. But the cadet has no idea where to even start. “So... what was the reason for it?”

“I cannot tell you that, Steve,” Bucky replies instantly, not even giving a second of consideration to the possibility. The demon cannot afford to put the young human at risk.

Knowledge -regardless of the power it gives the holder- always brings danger with it.

“Why not?” The cadet frowns. Bucky's skin feels hot under his palm, but neither human or demon removes the hand that subconsciously brushes over the taut muscles of Bucky's chest. Like heated lava being caressed and soothed by the cool silkiness of the earth.

“It isn't something you need to know.”

“But-” The blond hates that Bucky refuses to talk to him, especially if it involves demons. Though Steve far from resents him for it. He understands that if Bucky could tell him everything, he would. And he will.

When the time comes, the demon will reveal everything. Steve just needs to learn to be a little more patient...despite his stubborn curiosity.

“ _Steve.”_

The cadet goes silent, the movement of his fingertips ceasing as if they had been frozen in place by the demon's stern tone. But the demon's expression shows a tenderness to it, as if he isn't actually bothered about the cadet bombarding him with questions. More like, he feels something akin to regret by not being able to answer them.

“Bucky... can't you tell me anything about the war?” The blond pleads.

“No.” Although the demon is unyielding, he is not unreasonable. Bucky smiles up at the younger man. “But why don't I tell you something about me instead?”

Steve perks up at that. Like a child eager for their bedtime story, but instead, the tale of Bucky's past is far more gruesome than the blond could ever expect or understand.

“Okay.”

“Just before the war... that is when I changed my _type,_ as you call it,” Bucky explains.

“That's when you went from a Trickster into a Warrior?” Steve is more than a little intrigued.

“Yes.”

“Can I ask how... or why?” The blond isn't sure which he rather have Bucky answer, but he'll take whatever information he can pry from the demon's lips.

“I changed because I knew the war was coming... the process is complicated.”

“How did you know the war was going to happen?”

“I know a lot of things.” Bucky smirks, a smugness to his expression that makes the cadet skeptical as to whether the demon is truly proud of all that he knows of. Perhaps there are things that the demon rather forget.

“But why bother changing your type?”

“Because it is easier fighting a war head on, than from the sidelines.”

Tricksters, unlike Warriors, do not tend to use their brute strength to capture their prey- they use tactics that do not involve physical power, but manipulation. Tricksters use the energy of their class to corner their target, lurking in the sidelines as their prey tries to find some way to escape... only to find themselves trapped. Some tricksters, especially those of a higher level, are even known to manipulate the element they control, to create utterly terrifying shapes that follow and torture their target. But, above all, they like to _play_ before they _kill._

“Is that how you...?” Steve tries to ask, but finds himself unable to quite find the words. The demon raises an eyebrow at the blond's unfinished sentence. Steve blushes when Bucky evidently doesn't understand what he is trying to ask. “I-is that how you hurt your arm?”

“You want to know how I hurt my arm?”

“Yes, I mean, well... I know I don't exactly have a _right_ to ask- I mean, I _do._ You are my demon, ah, not that I own you. Except that technically I do, but I don't see you as my property or anything, I just wanted to ask. Not that you have to tell me if its a sore topic, but I am here for you, and you can- you can trust me,” Steve blurts out all at once, almost breathlessly as the tips of his ears flush crimson.

The demon is quiet for a moment, expressionless except for the small smile he can't seem to prevent- especially with the blond looking so divine with pink cheeks and plump, bitten lips. Bucky carefully leans up onto his right elbow, mirroring the cadet's position. But instead of his other hand resting on the blond's stomach, his metallic fingers tenderly wrap around the back of the blond's neck, disturbing the soft strands at the nape of it. Using his hold, Bucky brings the cadet's face closer with an attentive pull. There is no resistance from Steve as their mouths meet in a subtle, graceful kiss. Just enough to feel the warmth of the other, but not enough for their actions to lead any further.

“It's a story for another day, my little warrior.”

        

At, first, Steve feels like he is dreaming. His body is light, as if he is gently falling through the darkness that surrounds him. His breaths are deep and even, his heart beat a steady pulse against his ribs. His skin is warm, mind numb and thoughts peaceful.

Of course, he _is_ dreaming.

Those sharp blue eyes surely cannot be from anything but from within a dream. They watch him, exactly like the previous times- completely encased in darkness as shadows twirl around the cadet's ankles. However, in this moment, there are no fingers encasing his wrist, nor arms wrapped around him to prevent his tentative steps towards those entrancing, fear-provoking orbs.

But as Steve steps closer, he finds it hard to move: as if the shadows are thickening and hardening around his feet. So much so, that before the blond can tread further into the darkness, he finds himself losing his balance altogether. The cadet holds his hands out to try and prevent his fall, his knees finally giving way as they drop to the ground with a soft _thud._ Steve's fingers are immediately swallowed by vines of darkness as they press against the hard surface beneath the blond.

But the ground... it feels strange. It is not silky like the shadows around him, but rough- like billions of tiny spheres, sliding over one another with the weight of his palms. They feel hot against his skin, as if containing some of the sun's heat in every particle. Steve frowns, leaning back against his calves as he curls one hand into the darkness. The blond's palm becomes heated, almost burning as his hand becomes level with his chest. Slowly, the cadet uncurls his fist, fingers spreading ever so slightly. The grit seeps through the gaps back onto the floor with a gentle patter like dull, black sand.

Steve looks back up in search of those eyes, but there is no hint of blue in the chaos of darkness that surrounds him. Only the sound of his own breaths echo in the cadet's ears; he is all alone in the pitch-black of the nothingness that Steve has come to recognise. There is no familiarity of his demon protecting him from the being that seems to have been engulfed by shadows.

The sudden feel of dense liquid oozing from the very tips of his fingers, to the bone of his wrist startles the blond as he brings his hands closer. The substance is red and sticky, and almost black in the crevices of his palms and fingernails where the sand had been... just like clotting blood.

Steve realises it in horror: _exactly like blood._

Blood that is quickly drying in the heat of the shadows, and yet it is so thick that the blond isn't sure it could ever become as dusty as the black sand beneath him. Steve can feel himself begin to panic: his heart rate increases and his breaths quickly become irregular gasps.

The liquid is _warm..._

_Fresh..._

The cadet has to stifle the frightened scream that begs to be let loose from the middle of his throat. Logic tells him to not allow fear to consume him: nowhere on his pale skin, nor the pink of his insides does he feel pain. The blood is not his.

Except that... whose blood is it?

Whose blood can it be when there is no one else around?

_Bucky._

Steve immediately looks for his demon, neck twisting to search for him in the shadows as he stumbles to a stand.

_Bucky._

_Bucky will know._

_Bucky can help him._

_Bucky can protect him._

The blond knows his stomach is twisting in apprehension, and yet it is a dull sensation compared to what it feels like when Bucky is not by his side. There are no tentative caresses of fingertips or wings to soothe the blond's anxious thoughts and the dread that surges through him.

Steve feels isolated in the darkness. He is utterly alone and for some reason... that frightens him. Being on his own has never once worried the blond, but in this moment, Steve yearns for his demon. He yearns for his demon's scent and tender touch. He yearns for strong arms to be wrapped around his waist, shielding him from the shadows that will surely dominate him.

He wants _Bucky._

But there are no silver-flecked eyes peeking through the darkness, and the realisation that his demon is nowhere to be found rips through him like a wave of icy cold water. Steve cannot stop himself from calling out the demon's name, each syllable said with more desperation than the previous.

_Bucky..._

_Bucky._

_Bucky!_

Steve isn't sure at what point his dream turns into reality. But suddenly the blond can depict his demon's worried expression from the darkness above him. Black sand is replaced with thin, white sheets that entwine around his legs. The smoky shadows replaced with the dim lights from outside the dorms. Steve's skin is cold from the drying sweat along his spine and forehead, a vast contrast to the burning mere moments ago.

The cadet sits up on the bed, his heart anxious and yet filled with relief as he becomes aware of the familiar, gentle touch of his demon caressing his cheek and the bare skin of his upper arm.

“Bucky?” Steve whispers the demon's name, his voice throaty with distressed tension.

“Yeah, It's me.” Bucky smiles tenderly, the metallic pad of his thumb grazing the side of the cadet's face, sensors detecting its silky surface.

“I...I-” Steve can't quite get the words out through the reassurance of the the smoothness of his own hands; no longer sticky and red with that same blood from one of his previous dreams.

“Shh. Shh, it's okay,” Bucky coos, pulling the blond into his lap. The cadet immediately wraps his arms around the demon's neck, burying his face against the warmth of his shoulder. “I'm here, Steve.”

They stay like that for a few moments: a demon holding a soldier gently in their arms, not even with a microscopic speck of desire to do harm. The demon listens to the sound of Steve's heart gradually finding that steady rhythm once more. The blond can practically feel the tension in his body dissolving, like fragments of ice melting into a warm lake. The lonely darkness has become a faint memory, although it is still very much on Steve's mind.

“Your kept saying my name,” the demon states, and the cadet's cheeks instantly flush pink.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“I didn't mean it like that, my little warrior.” Bucky chuckles, pressing a light kiss to Steve's forehead. The blond's blush darkens, but he no less basks in the warmth of the touch.

“I couldn't find you,” the blond mutters, his lips nudging the demon's skin with each word.

“I'm right here, I haven't gone anywhere,” the demon says softly, voice low in the cadet's ear.

“I feel like an idiot,” Steve admits, embarrassed.

Bucky tightens his embrace around the blond's frame- a silent action of comfort to demonstrate that the demon doesn't think so. In fact, the demon judges Steve's thinking to be very much like his own: calculated, logical and every question brimming with curiosity. The cadet knows more than he is aware of; more than capable of inferring the answers he seeks, regardless of whether he is confident enough to believe in his own conclusions.

“You know...” Bucky trails off before he barely begins the sentence.

“What?” Steve shifts his face to meet the demon's mischievous stare barely inches away.

“I definitely prefer it when you are _moaning_ my name.”

“Oh my _gods,_ _Bucky!”_ Steve squeaks, flushing crimson along his cheeks, the heat spreading to the tips of his ears and to the smooth expanse of his chest. The demon laughs, and after a moment Steve can't help but giggle along with him like an embarrassed teenager.

Their carefree laughter comes to an abrupt halt as the demon's lips press against the blond's, easily finding that peaceful synchrony. Full of affection and passion; yet there is only a fragment of lust that burns to the surface as their kiss deepens. The yearning each has for the other's touch is not only based on desire or infatuation, but something else far more innocent and pure.

Even if neither of them can bare to let themselves realise it, their relationship is no longer as simple as a soldier and his demon.

Steve wants to be with Bucky.

To walk across the dusty paths of the academy with him. To talk to him about anything and everything as they discover more and more about the other- even if in tiny pieces. He wants to laugh with the demon, and to run together side by side, torrential rain or not. He wants to have dinner with the demon (regardless of the secrecy needed) and to bathe in the cool cascade of the showers with him. He wants to feel those smooth, raven-like wings under his palms and to sit without uttering a word, for words are never truly needed when it is just the two of them.

Steve wants to _save lives_. And he wants _Bucky_ to be with him every step of the way.

But most of all, at night...he wants to be wrapped tightly in the demon's embrace.

These feelings, these emotions... it doesn't matter how good they make the blond feel. But what does matter, is that it puts the meaning of their relationship onto the very edge of what is defined as right and _wrong._

“Mmm... What time is it?” Steve asks, breaking away from the kiss to rest his head against the demon's shoulder.

“Still night. You can go back to sleep.”

Steve mumbles an agreement, but doesn't move from the demon's lap. The blond cannot help but feel safe with his body pressed against the muscular, bare stretch of Bucky's chest. The demon is warm, as if his very presence encases the blond in a calming heat that gives nothing but the feeling of complete security.

“Bucky?” Steve's voice gently coaxes the demon to look at him.

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever dream?”

“Sometimes,” Bucky confesses after a quiet moment. But the silence tells Steve more than the demon's words ever could. However, the cadet can't quite tell whether Bucky's dreams are filled with hopes and passion, or the horrors the demon must have witnessed. Or perhaps, the horrors that the demon has caused.

Death and destruction. The demon has undoubtedly killed his own kind.

“What about other demons?”

“To a degree,” Bucky explains simply. But the glint of shining curiosity in the blue of Steve's eye has the demon divulging the blond in a little more information. “Though usually for demons, dreaming is used to only process information.”

“So, to help adapt to new experiences?”

“Yes, that kind of dreaming allows for the cognitive rehearsal of new skills, or to process a new situation.”

“It's similar to human dreaming, then?” Steve is a little surprised, although there isn't a reason for him to expect any differently. Demons may be viewed as animals, but as the cadet learns more about them, he realises that some aspects of such dangerous beings are comparable to those of humans.

“More or less. Though only higher level demons are capable of more in-depth dreaming.”

“Do you mean like subconscious desires...or fears?” The blond leans in just a little closer to the demon, seeking out the warmth of the Bucky's breath caressing along his cheeks. The demon smiles slyly at the cadet's subconscious movement.

“Exactly like that, but dreaming is often rare. They are not a regular occurrence for demons, and are more like an abnormality.” The demon feels like he is giving the cadet a lecture, but Steve certainly doesn't seem to mind.

In fact, the blond is hanging onto his every word. Absorbing every tiny detail like how one would try to memorise the words spoken by someone dear to them. In a way, that is exactly what the cadet is doing. Bucky is important to the blond, in so many new, different and unique ways.

“What do you dream about?” The blond can't stop himself from asking, something he is finding more and more difficult to fight. He knows his curiosity may get him in trouble, but the demon is fair -if also mysterious and secretive- and no amount of invasive, stubborn questions could ever make Bucky push him away.

Each one of them craves the other far too dearly for that. Even just a moment apart, at times, is too much. Like magnets, they are drawn to one another. There could be mountains or a great battle between them, but nothing can break that attraction.

“You want to know what I dream about?” The demon raises a brow in disbelief, unsure of why the cadet yearns to know such a thing. Though in reality, Bucky knows the blond desires to understand everything about the demon, just as much as Bucky wishes to learn all that he can about the young man in his arms.

“If you don't mind telling me...” Steve blushes, averting his gaze.

The demon smirks, slowly trailing his metallic arm up along the cadet's back to the nape of his neck, only to trace down his jaw, nudging those sweet lips closer. Steve doesn't refuse the intimacy, but rather... he melts with it as they kiss, full of tender synchrony and promises to come, before the demon whispers against the blond's smooth, pink lips.

“I dream about you.”


	20. Even Shadows Have An Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Nineteen:  
> **Kruger discussed The Demon War (1914-1945) where Steve realised that Bucky must have been alive for it, therefore knows the reason for it. But Bucky does not tell Steve.  
> **However, Bucky confessed that just before the war was when he changed his 'type' (from a Trickster into a Warrior).  
> **Steve had another strange dream, with black sand and blood on his hands.  
> **Bucky told Steve that demons are capable of dreaming- but only higher level demons are capable of more in-depth dreaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

****White.

Like a blank canvas.

Like the linen of hospital beds.

But neither stay white for long.

Week twenty-five at the academy brought with it a blanket of snow.

Soft and glistening in the dim sun's rays. And yet the air around them feels sharp against Steve's lungs; it's as if he can't quite breathe in enough to fill them. But, it is oddly exhilarating. The sound of their feet crunching across the layer of snow is satisfying to their ears as they pace across the icy ground. Goosebumps shiver along their skin, despite all of the _Avengers_ wearing their grey-hooded jumpers.

As they make their way from A to B, the snow slowly turns light brown as it mixes with the mud beneath it. The trucks carefully, and so very heavily crush the snow that had fallen onto the pathways- as if ironing out the creases in the earth.

Reaching the canteen, their warm breaths permeate the air around them like deadly smoke. Although many of the cadets that rush around the academy, do so in excitement, the first years are not so gleeful. For many of them, this Christmas will be their first away from home. And home... seems so very far away.

Although Steve misses his mother dearly, and wishes to see her more than anything, he doesn't despise the fact that he will be spending this occasion with his demon. Bucky is warm and inviting, a huge contrast to the outside world. At least, that's what Steve thinks.

Bucky is... certainly not used to human customs. What he does know about them, he has learnt through listening to the conversations around him. Only storing away specific details when the blond appears to take an interest in the topic. Christmas is one of the things Bucky doesn't fully understand the purpose of, nor exactly what is so special about the date. But the demon has learnt that many humans find joy in the event, and that includes the flushed, young man walking beside him as they enter the cafeteria.

The demon takes note of the _Avengers_ discussing the sudden appearance of snow during the cold night, confused as to why they seem... _happy?_

The cadets shiver and sneeze, and yet they seem euphoric just because of the particles of ice that even now still fall gentle to the ground. Bucky can't comprehend what the fuss is about. The demon by no means loathes the snow, but nor does he find any sort of pleasure in it. Bucky has been through long winters of harsh skies and treacherous snow storms when food becomes scarce, so what possible joy could there be from such a time?

“ _Fuck._ It's cold,” Steve mutters upon entering the dorms, arms wrapped around himself in an effort to insulate as much of his own body heat as possible. The demon follows obediently behind, more relaxed away from the other cadets. Or rather, Bucky is more comfortable with the blond being apart from them.

As the bonded pair slip into the confines of Steve's room, the demon makes sure to close the door securely behind them. Although the demon isn't concerned about whether someone catches them -talking or doing something far more inappropriate- he knows that the cadet constantly worries about it.

It isn't that Steve is _ashamed._ It's just that the cadet is very aware of the fact that their ~~relationship~~ level of intimacy is more often frowned upon than not. The blond almost gets dizzy thinking about how Sam may react to how close the human and demon have become- both physically, and mentally. Regardless of the many bridges they are still yet to cross that just a thought of brings a deep blush to the pale skin of Steve's cheeks.

“Ah! Bucky!” Steve gasps as the demon's hands slip around the blond's form, dipping under the fabric of his shirt without so much as a warning. Unable to have prepared himself for the demon's sudden touch, Steve jolts at the warmth upon his skin. Albeit not even a moment later he is melting into the demon's heat.

“You're cold,” Bucky teases with a smirk, his hands firmly rubbing up and down the cadet's back. The demon cannot help but think that Steve fits so very perfectly in his palms; from the smooth curve of his ribs, to the slight bumps of his spine, and the jutting of his hips.

“And you're so hot.” The blond looks up at the demon with a coy smile. It doesn't take a keen eye to see the lust in Steve's irises. Like a flicker of a shining pearl in the ocean's blue shallows.

The demon leans down to place a kiss upon the blond's pink lips as the cadet tucks his hands between their chests. Steve feels completely and utterly trapped in the demon's strong embrace, and yet, not even for one moment does he wish to be free from it.

They stay like that -absorbed in the other's mere presence- until the cadet's legs begin to ache with standing for far too long. Being so close, Steve is sure that their auras must be indistinguishable from the other. A mass of darkness encasing the air around them, with petals of orange glowing weakly through it. As if the shadows dominate the light, cutting it off from the world.

“I don't think I can stand for much longer,” the blond mumbles against Bucky's shoulder, shivering a little at the goosebumps across his skin and the coldness of his lungs. At the very edge of Steve's vision, he can depict the collar that entwines around the demon's throat. The symbols embedded onto its surface seem to call out to the blond, or at the very least, they serve as a reminder that the demon is bound to him.

Bucky reluctantly releases his hold of the blond, allowing the younger man to turn on his feet as if to walk away- but he doesn't get the chance. The demon quickly slinks one arm around the cadet's waist, while the other reaches the back of his thighs, lifting the cadet in one fluid motion.

Steve squeals in surprise as Bucky brings him close to his chest, feeling the ground beneath him disappear. His hands grip onto the demon's shoulders in an automatic response to balance himself, even though he knows that the demon won't drop him.

Bucky grins at Steve's startled expression, carrying the blond towards the bed. Just before the demon's knees knock the edge of the mattress, he gently lets the younger man fall from his arms. Steve hits the bed with a single bounce, pushing himself up to sit cross-legged as the demon settles opposite the blond, their legs nudging close to one another.

Steve raises a brow when Bucky clasps his hands together, metal against flesh as he rubs them for a brief moment before deciding to pause.

“Close your eyes,” the demon commands, unable to quite wipe the grin from his face.

If Steve's brow could raise any higher, it surely would. Although intrigued, the blond does as Bucky asks, his own hands resting in his lap even though he would rather them be upon the warmth of the demon's body.

The blond can feel the heat upon his face before the light filters through his eyelids. A dim, yellow glow at first, but one that quickly turns into a deep, vibrant orange that Steve recognises. The corners of the blond's eye crease with trying not to open them, even though the cadet is very tempted to do so.

“Can I open them yet?” Steve asks, feeling his body begin to twitch with impatience. Like a puppy trying to be obedient for its reward.

“No,” the demon answers simply.

“Why not?”

“I like looking at you,” Bucky teases playfully, and yet his words are anything but lies.

“ _Bucky!”_ The blond blushes, though his eyes never once peek at the demon. But Steve is more than just a little aware of the demon's gaze upon him.

“Hmm, I suppose you can open your eyes now, my little warrior.” Bucky chuckles, clearly amused with the cadet's embarrassment.

Steve opens his eyes, blinking twice to get used to the bright light that radiates from the orb that rests just above the demon's cupped palms. It looks like Bucky is holding a large flame in his hands, controlling and manipulating it as if it couldn't do irreversible damage.

But, like a viper, the demon's power has the potential to bring chaos.

“Watch closely,” the demon commands, though his voice is low enough to be classed as a gentle whisper.

The blond is mesmerised by the orb, by its beautiful, familiar glow that shines between their chests. The light of the fire reflecting in Steve's eyes show just how much the younger man is captivated by the demon's power...and the demon himself.

The orb gradually begins to change colour; shifting and darkening into something Steve has never seen before. Like blossoming violets or glistening amethysts, the fire becomes a deep purple. The heat that emits from the orb gets hotter the darker it becomes, and Steve can feel it seeping into his own flesh, warming the surface of his skin.

“Put your hands on it,” Bucky suddenly tells the blond, catching him by surprise yet again.

“What? No!” The cadet refuses with a disbelieving gasp, shocked that the demon would even tell him to do such a thing. Swirls of purple twist along the edges of the orb before diving further into the centre, only to reappear on the other side of the sphere. Each time, Steve can feel a new wave of heat wash over his chilled form. It's as if each translucent particle is alive with fierce, burning energy.

“You don't need to be afraid, I won't hurt you,” Bucky says softly, though his voice sounds nothing but certain.

Steve isn't entirely convinced that the flame wont burn his skin red if he were to touch it, especially with the warmth that dances across his cheeks. Like whispers of heated words, they are both a comfort, and a warning. But he knows that the demon wont harm him, or at the very least, never intentionally.

Unsure, Steve's hand wavers as he reaches out towards the glowing orb, the cool tips of his fingers sensing the warmth growing nearer, burning hotter. When Steve's fingers finally touch the purple rim of the flame, his hand automatically jerks back as if expecting it to have been burnt. But the cadet's skin remains as silky and smooth as it had been moments ago.

The demon chuckles as Steve's hand seeks out the orb once more. Though this time, his fingertips sink deeper into the purple mass, and the blond can instantly feel the warmth seeping profusely into his flesh. The tender heat spreads along his arm and Steve brings his other hand to rest just inside the vibrant orb that still dances in Bucky's palm.

Steve can feel his whole body warming up, and the goosebumps upon his skin are there for an entirely new reason. The cadet knows he is blushing under the demon's unyielding gaze, but he can't help but look up at the demon with a nervous, awe-struck smile.

His insides feel like they are melting with the intensity of the flame's heat, as if lava is running through his veins. But unlike that scorching liquid, Steve's body is in utter bliss with the heat that rids his bones of the icy fragments that had made their way under his skin.

“What exactly is this? I've never seen this kind of fire before...” Steve enquires, bewildered by such a rare sight.

“It's one of the advantages of being a _dark class.”_ Bucky grins, seemingly arrogant, though perhaps merely trying to impress the blond.

“So what do you call this?”

“Kayoh-lun Bae-deoh-tae.” The demon pronounces it slowly at first, then more firmly as if it is something he has said numerous times before. “Koln Bdoty.”

“That sounds rather ominous.” The blond giggles, looking back at the orb that still swirls around his hands- twisting past his knuckles and brushing against his palms.

“It means _The Dark Flame.”_

“But not all dark classes can control fire, so is this a _unique_ ability?” Steve asks, knowing all too well that (sometimes) he will have to go to the demon for answers.

“In a way, yes. Only dark classes who can manipulate fire can create The Dark Flame.”

“How exactly does it work?” The orb, both its vividness and colour, are totally unnatural. Yet, it is as much a part of the demon as his wings are. But the fire is undoubtedly not from this realm, nor could it be explained by any human science. Its existence can be described as nothing but _demonic._

“A part of our dark power becomes entwined into the flame, giving it properties that can be controlled,” the demon explains. Upon seeing the blond's confused expression, Bucky divulges him in a little more information. “Like heat, brightness, strength...”

“That's why it turns purple?”

“Yes.”

“It's really pretty,” Steve murmurs after a moment of watching the orb, entranced by its glistening surface.

The blond can't help but feel privileged knowing the Bucky is allowing Steve to know the extent of the demon's power, and ultimately, more of his past. Even if in reality they have only breached the surface... They certainly have a long way to go, especially considering the demon is over eight-hundred years old. Perhaps, baby steps are the way to go. But most importantly, those steps have to be at the demon's pace.

Although Steve doesn't quite understand why the demon is so reluctant to tell him everything, the blond is patient enough to wait. Or rather, Steve likes to think himself patient enough. At least where his demon is concerned.

“Yes, it is,” Bucky says in return, albeit his gaze doesn't look to the flame, but its reflection in the blue of Steve's eyes. The blond looks stunning; his eyes appear as if lilac flowers are blossoming in their very centres, framed by long black vines that form the younger man's lashes. His hair is slightly dishevelled from running his fingers through it too many times, and the ends are damp from melted snowflakes.

“Thank you,” Steve says, meeting the demon's stare with a flushed, shy expression.

“What for?” It's the demon's turn to be surprised by the other's words.

“For not burning me,” Steve jests with a smile, but then more seriously: “Thank you for showing me.”

Bucky merely leans in to kiss the blond in a silent reply, his hands wrapping around those thin wrists as the flame disperses. A small, muffled moan escapes the blond as a surge of heat crawls throughout his entire body. Spreading across the pale, pinkened flesh of his chest, to the silky, sensitive skin of his inner thighs.

The synchronised movements of their lips become lost as desperation and complete yearning take over. Steve gasps as the demon tugs briefly at his lower lip, his demand silent, although the blond hears it resonate loudly through their bond. As Steve's lips part, Bucky takes advantage of the younger man, licking into his mouth almost possessively- perhaps _claiming._

The blond is unable to suffocate the moan the escapes him, though the demon gladly swallows it. Barely seconds later Steve is eagerly pressing back against the demon's lips, slipping from the previously tight hold around his wrists.

Steve's fingers find the hem of Bucky's shirt, tugging on it twice before the demon understands exactly what it is that the blond desires. Bucky quickly pulls the shirt over his head, reaching out to do the same with the blond. But, he promptly realises that Steve's jacket and shirt have already been abandoned on the floor, and the blond is leaning forward to kiss the demon again.

Bucky lets out a small, pleased moan at the younger man's fervour. The demon is so captivated by their kiss (and by the emotions that cascade through them both) that he hardly notices when the cadet's trousers collide with the ground half-way across the room. As the blond's hands rest at Bucky's hips, the demon shifts so that his own clothing can be slipped from his legs by eager, confident fingers.

“Do you want me to-” The demon begins to ask, but is quickly cut off by the blond's gasped, stuttered words.

“No! No, just st-stay there.”

The blond wraps his arms around the demon's shoulders, peppering the demon's lips with lewd kisses, crawling into the demon's lap like a kitten begging to be petted. With only their underwear on, Bucky's thighs feel incredibly hot under his own as his calves curve around the demon's waist.

Their bond pulsates with the desire and _hunger_ to touch the other, as if addicted to the closeness and contact these intimate moments bring. Even though their relationship has become far deeper than that, and something far more forbidden.

Kissing provides both human and demon with a distraction as the blond trails one hand down the muscular stretch of Bucky's chest. Without a thought, and before the cadet has a chance to be consumed by his nerves, he palms the demon's cock through the thin, black fabric of his boxers.

“You don't have to,” the demon mutters, pulling away from the blond's sweet lips, making sure that the younger man meets his gaze.

“I know...” Steve pants, leaning in to whisper into the demon's ear, his breath ghosting across Bucky's jaw like the delicate wings of a butterfly. “But I _want_ to.”

That is all the demon needs to hear. All the confirmation he needs to allow them to drown themselves in complete lust. Bucky swiftly catches those plump lips once more; seizes the blond's hips, tugging him just that little bit closer to settle him more comfortably before running his hands slowly up and down the younger man's sides.

Steve presses the palm of his hand more firmly against the outline of Bucky's cock, a little nervous now, but encouraged by the demon's gentle hums of pleasure. The blond can feel the demon hardening underneath him with the friction the rubbing of his palm provides. That, and the desperate kiss the blond is moaning and struggling to breathe with... those little moans and gasps arouse the demon more than he will ever admit.

Bucky allows the blond to set the pace, trying his best not to take control nor push the cadet more than he should. But Steve doesn't need the demon to ask nor command him, he is keen enough to try something else. The younger man's hesitant fingers dip under the elastic just below Bucky's abdomen, pulling the material down just enough for the blond to wrap his hand around the demon's warm cock.

The demon feels much _bigger,_ or perhaps _thicker_ than Steve remembers, even when still only half-hard. But that may just be because the blond's slender fingers can't begin to truly encase the whole of the demon's length. Steve experimentally rubs his thumb gently over the head, spreading droplets of pre-come as Bucky hardens under the blond's attention.

Steve breaks their kiss, panting for breath as the demon leans in to press their foreheads together; eyes closed and utterly lost in the invisible mist of their infused auras. Like an unseen mass of darkness, with only tiny particles of amber swirls breaking through.

“Your _friend_ better not interrupt this time, my little warrior. Because I won't be letting you go this time round,” Bucky growls, borderline seductive and no less than truly dominant. Steve is nothing but a hot mess in his arms, shivering at those words.

Steve follows his instinct: he wants to make Bucky feel as good as the demon makes him. But rather than being on the gentle side like Bucky has been with the younger man, Steve lets something rather _raw_ and uncontrolled chase away his anxious thoughts.

Slowly at first, the blond slides his hand along the demon's length, quickening his movements as the demon hums in approval. It doesn't take long for Bucky to become hot and aching in the palm of his hand, the jerking of his wrist tightening to provide _just enough_ friction.

“Keep going,” Bucky encourages, breathing against the blond's lips. “You're doing _so good, Steve.”_

The younger man blushes with the praise, his embarrassment only eradicated by the demon's soft moans. Bucky's cock leaks sticky, warm pre-come across the blond's timid fingers, spurring the cadet on with a keenness that only comes from something primal, deep down in his core.

Their lips meet once again, and there is nothing pure or chaste about it. It's difficult to find any sort of synchrony with how desperate they try and seek out the taste of the other: as if they are completely, and utterly addicted.

A sharp, sudden spark of electricity courses through the demon with a flick of Steve wrist, his strokes smooth and yet nowhere near graceful on the demon's erection. Not that Bucky minds at all. Just one mere touch of the blond's silky skin upon his body has the demon charged and brimming with desire for a certain soldier.

“Mmm, do that again,” the demon murmurs, more of a request than a demand.

“Like this?” Steve's voice is muffled by their lips, his wrist twisting ever so slightly with each upward stroke on the demon's cock.

“Yeah, just like that.” Bucky rewards the blond with a low growl that vibrates from the depths of his chest to the back of his throat.

The demon wraps his arms around the blond's thin waist, pulling him close enough so that their chests almost press together with Steve's hand still between them. The arm that remains on Bucky's shoulder shifts to tangle fingers into those inky strands, gripping onto the nape of his neck to deepen their kiss impossibly further.

The blond lets out a single moan as the demon's own hands rub against his back, down and along his thighs before tracing the hem of Steve's underwear. Knowing the demon's intentions, the cadet bats his hand away with a smirk and a confidence he didn't quite know he had. Though he still can't quite stop the rolling of his own hips, the friction barely enough to prevent himself losing all sense of control to the demon.

Sneaking his hands back onto the blond's thighs, the demon basks himself in the feeling of smooth skin under his hands. The image of Steve's hand wrapped around is cock is something the demon will never forget, and strangely enough, in this very moment... the darkness of his past seems further away than it ever has been.

“ _Steve.”_ The younger man's weight on his lap is wholly grounding as he moans the cadet's name, breaking their kiss with a small, breathless gasp from the blond.

“Mmm?”

“I'm close, Steve,” the demon admits, almost strained as his grip on Steve's pale thighs tightens. “Don't stop.”

Increasing his pace with the reassurance of Bucky's pleasure, Steve can feel the demon get just that little bit _thicker_ in the palm of his hand. The vibration and throbbing of their bond is almost too much to bear. It's difficult to distinguish their emotions, but that doesn't matter: they are one and the same.

The demon peppers kisses along the blond's jaw, down the side of his throat to nip and tug at the delicate skin between his teeth; smoothing the redden skin with a swipe of his tongue and a kiss of his lips. Steve gasps as Bucky tastes the sweetness of his skin, letting out a high-pitched moan when the demon bites a little too hard.

Despite his already heated body, the demon can feel himself become warmer as sparks of pleasure ignite and flow throughout his body. He can no longer hold back. Bucky comes with a drawn-out moan against the blond's throat. His white release coating the cadet's fingers, whose repetitive strokes only slow to a stop when the demon's uneven breaths caress his skin.

“We...uh, better get going,” Steve says after a moment, breathing heavily in an effort to calm himself. He certainly doesn't want to show up to their manifestation session half-hard.

“Stay here with me.” Bucky wraps his arms around the cadet's waist once again, but with every intention of not letting the blond go.

“We can't...” The blond sighs, though he doesn't resist the demon's embrace. After a second the blond cranes his neck to whisper into Bucky's ear. “...and my hand is sticky...”

“I can't say that I'm particularly regretful of that.” The demon chuckles, pressing one last kiss to the marred skin of Steve's neck before greeting those plump, wet lips.

“Come on, we'll be late for training.” Steve giggles. Pulling back, the younger man slips from the demon's lap, ignoring Bucky's bitter expression as he attempts to stand. But the cadet doesn't get more than three inches off the mattress before the demon draws him back against his chest.

With his back to the demon, Steve has to look over his shoulder to meet the demon's gaze. But while the cadet expects to find something wild and untamed in those silver-flecked eyes, he is met with nothing but a warm devotion and fondness. And these only really just breach the surface.

Their lips meet in a short, but _meaningful_ kiss. Filled with unsaid promises and desires that only grow with each day. It is an ember that only takes one wrong move for chaos to reign. The risk is grave, albeit in those few moments that their lips meet... Steve finds himself entranced without a single fear of their future.

Because _this_ can only ever be the right path to take.

“Alright, let's go then, my little warrior.”

        

Later that week, the academy gets just that little bit quieter as some of the older cadets leave to see their families. The first years are disappointed at not being able to greet their loved ones, but on Christmas Eve they are rewarded with some of the best-tasting food they have had in a long time.

That, and Fury tells them that there is no need to train on Christmas Day. Now, the cadets can't wait to have a day that they don't have to run in the snow, but enjoy it with an innocence that they still have from their childhoods. Though the blond has a different plan.

Steve is looking forward to spending most of the day with his demon; wrapped in each other's arms as the snow practically becomes a blizzard outside the window. A bit of privacy and time just to himself is what the blond needs, even if Bucky will be by his side for every second of it. There is no need for him to worry about trying to prove himself a worthy member of the team. Yes, Steve wants nothing more than to be a good soldier, but sometimes... Steve just needs to be _Steve._

But, most importantly, while usually communication with civilians (family being included) is not permitted, on Christmas Day, soldiers are given permission to call and speak to the ones they have been missing dearly for months at a time.

For Steve, that person is his mother. The cadet hasn't heard her soft, sweet voice in over six months. Sarah Rogers is a kind woman, always protecting her one and only son, wishing him the very best in life. Although she does not not like the idea of Steve becoming a soldier, she has supported him regardless.

The cadet will always be thankful to her for that.

“So, what exactly is the purpose of this?” Bucky asks suddenly.

“What?” Steve looks away from his laptop to watch the demon who lay sprawled on his side next to the blond. Bucky's metallic hand rests over the cadet's outstretched legs along the bed; his nose pressed against his clothed thigh, breathing in the blond's scent.

“Of tomorrow...”

“You mean...Christmas Day?” The blond comprehends the fact that although human traditions are well known amongst many cultures, demons know nothing of them. They make no difference to demons. A day is a day to cause destruction, the date doesn't matter. But Bucky is unique in that he is curious enough to ask the blond about these peculiar celebrations.

“That is what I heard the humans call it,” the demon grumbles, as if even a mere mention of the other cadets irritates the demon. Like a lion being annoyed by tiny flies.

“They are my _friends,_ Bucky. My team mates. Not _the humans,”_ Steve mocks.

The demon grunts in reply, unamused. The cadet sighs with a small smile, saving his open document and setting the laptop atop the desk. Once back against the propped-up pillow, the blond can't help but rest his left hand atop the demon's head, combing through those soft, dark strands. Bucky lets out a low rumble that could almost be mistaken for a purr.

“Steve...” The demon whines, playfully aiming for the cadet's attention. It's moments like this that make Bucky seem... _human._

“Mm?”

“What is the significance of _Christmas?”_ Bucky groans in a way that makes it seem as if he doesn't actually care, but is asking regardless.

“Ah, you really want to know?” The blond smiles, teasing the demon.

“Only if its important to you.”

Steve is taken aback for a moment, overwhelmed by the demon's choice of words... and what they mean.

“For some people, it is about spending time with friends and family, showing that we care about them and love them. People exchange gifts or cards, and of course, leave food out for Santa.” The demon's expression remains blank, giving nothing away. But the blond knows the demon must be confused by the strange human traditions. “It's just a legend, but if you leave out cookies and milk during the night, Santa eats them. And in return, he brings presents to the children who have behaved well, and protects them from demons.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” the dark class mutters to himself.

“Try and be a little open-minded about it, Bucky,” the cadet scolds before continuing. “But for some people, Christmas is a religious celebration.”

“What do you mean by that?” Shifting up onto his elbow (his metallic arm still resting across the cadet) the demon meets the blond's gaze with an inquisitive expression.

“Well, some people celebrate Christmas as a part of their religion, and-”

“Religion?” The demon cuts him off with yet another question.

“Its hard to explain... and rather complicated. It's about believing in God, or for some, _gods._ It is about faith in that god or gods, and you follow a set of rules or guidelines to show that faith.”

“Do you believe in a god?”

Steve contemplates the question for a moment, unsure how to answer. The demon watches the blond, his eyes never once leaving the contours of his smooth skin and plump, pink lips- waiting patiently for a reply.

“There is so little we know of the world. Is it that big of a jump to say something is watching over us? That something created us? That we have a purpose?”

“It is we who create ourselves a purpose, no one else,” Bucky replies firmly, seemingly so sure of his words. Steve is almost certain that the demon's eyes darken at the declaration.

“So what's your purpose?”

Bucky stays silent. Very silent. The kind of silence that sets the cadet on edge, raising the tiny hairs at the back of his neck and causing his nerves to break loose. Not knowing... the cadet hates that feeling, that is why he has always strived to know all that he can when he fails to understand something.

But what Steve doesn't realise, is that the demon is only trying to protect him from the knowledge that still haunts the demon. Bucky's past is like a ghost that constantly follows him, no matter where he goes. It is something that the demon cannot escape- he is chained to it.

And that... is something the cadet can never even hope to understand.

        

The morning light is only just beginning to filter through the window, most of the golden rays obscured by the heavy snow that falls in clumps over the academy. Puddles of muddy water have frozen over and crunch and break under the heavy footsteps of soldiers jogging by.

The cadet stirs from his slumber, eyes still heavy and is body warm despite the dropping temperature. Reaching out one hand blindly to find the demon, Steve's eyes snap open when all he finds is an empty mattress.

Steve stares at the empty space, his brain taking a moment to process the situation. The fabric is nowhere near as warm as it should be if the demon had slept on it. Which only means that Bucky has been gone for a considerable amount of time.

Jolting up, his head spins from getting up too quickly, his vision blurry for a few seconds before adjusting to the dim room. Heart beating rapidly in his chest, the only thing the cadet can think of is _fuck._

He has messed up.

Bucky is gone and it is his fault.

He can blame no one but himself for being a complete and utter _fool._

_Demons cannot be trusted._

_We should never assume that we know_ ~~_the enemy_ ~~ _demons._

 


	21. Your Darkness Can Protect My Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~Twenty:  
> **Bucky shows Steve 'The Dark Flame', that is akin to purple fire, that only some dark classes can produce.  
> **Steve had a little burst of confidence, and finally took the initiative to be more intimate with Bucky. ;)  
> **Steve had to explain the meaning of Christmas, as well as religion to Bucky.  
> **However, when Steve awoke on Christmas Day, Bucky is nowhere to be seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter has been edited. :)

 

Steve's lungs fill with regret and his chest... it _aches._

As if a part of him is _missing._

Until... he sees the shadows crawling across his skin. Like a thin mist, the black shadows swirl across his form. As if it's hot smoke that is keeping his body warm, safe... and protected from the harsh, frozen wasteland outside.

“I'm here,” a gentle, deep voice beckons.

Steve cranes his neck to look to his far side to find the demon standing like a statue by the desk, staring at the falling snow that melts as soon as it hits the window... naked except for the dark boxers that barely rest at his hips.

“I thought...” The cadet begins, blushing before shaking his head. “Never mind.”

“You thought I had left?” Bucky turns to face the blond with an expression full of concern.

Steve refuses to meet the demon's gaze, regardless of how hot it feels on his skin.

Yes, Steve had thought that Bucky had left him; all alone and isolated in the darkness of his room. But when he had heard the demon's voice call out to him, he had felt nothing but relief. That, and the realisation that he is far move involved with his demon than he should be.

The blond had not panicked because he could have gotten into trouble (for having absolutely no control over his demon) but because Steve feels nothing but anxious without his demon beside him. Aching for his demon's touch... his mere presence... Steve cannot even being to truly understand the grief that would wreck through him were the demon to leave.

But, he had felt a fraction of it then, when his groggy mind had not yet comprehended the demon's honest reluctance to ever leave the human.

Drawn to one another, like the opposite poles of two magnets... Steve had felt the pull of distress and anguish that had made both his body and mind yearn for the demon's return.

But those feelings had been unfounded. The blond's logic had been overrun by the mere belief that the demon had vanished, when in fact, all it would have taken is a few seconds to look closer and realise that the demon hadn't been far away at all.

In that moment, not only does Steve realise that his feelings for the demon run utterly, and undeniably right down to his core, but that... those feelings affect his judgement.

“I- what is this stuff?” The blond asks, watching the shadows twist along his hands as he twitches his fingers. However, except from the warmth they produce, the shadows do not feel like they are actually touching his skin, but just hovering over the surface. Tickling at the tiny hairs of his arms and legs.

“ _Zwokaqz.”_

“How do you pronounce that?” Steve is more than a little intrigued. Though in reality, anything to do with his demon catches the blond's interest.

“Zwoh-kuk-ahks,” the demons says slowly, putting emphasis onto each section of the word so that the cadet can more easily understand it.

“Which translates to?”

“In your language, it roughly translates to _shadows.”_

“Which dark classes can control, right? You can use this to...kill?” Steve's hands fall to his lap as he looks up at the demon, unable to imagine that these tender shadows could do him any harm.

“Yes, if I wanted to,” the demon confesses. As he does so, Bucky notices the cadet's startled expression. “I thought that you might get cold... I used the _Zwokaqz_ to keep you warm.”

“So that I wouldn't wake up and know that you were gone,” Steve deadpans. The blond pulls back the thin sheet, swinging his feet over the side of the bed and onto the cool floor.

“I never left the room while you were sleeping.” The demon walks over to the blond before he has a chance to stand. Bucky completely over shadows the blond, but as the demon steps closer, the black mist around Steve dissipates.

“What were you doing, then?”

“Watching the snow,” Bucky admits, kneeling down in front of the blond so that their gazes are level with one another. Steve doesn't push away the demon's hands that snake their way atop his thighs.

“Why?” The cadet's brows furrow in confusion.

“Because yesterday, you were watching it too. I thought perhaps you see something that I do not.”

“Okay,” Steve says softly. And that's that. The cadet doesn't question the demon further, although perhaps he should. Anyone else would have. But the blond had sensed no lies between them.

Although, yes, the demon often dances around a subject to avoid the answer, he has never lied to the younger man.

So why should Steve stop believing him now?

“Come on, we need to get moving.” The blond pats the demon's shoulder.

“There isn't any work today,” Bucky mumbles, only knowing this from having heard the blond talk about it with the other cadets. His disapproval radiates through their bond, much rather wanting to stay beside the younger man in the shadows of the dorm.

“No, there isn't. But we're all meeting up for breakfast,” Steve explains with a slight smile, his voice soft and gentle as if to persuade the demon.

“Then we'll come back here.” It isn't a question, but a demand.

“Yeah, but we gotta get dressed now.”

Satisfied, Bucky allows his hands to fall from the cadet's smooth thighs. As the demon begins to get back up, the sudden grip on his arms has him halting all movements. With a shy grin, the blond's hands glide up to cup the back of Bucky's neck, bringing the demon's lips close enough to press an innocent kiss to them.

Just one, little kiss and the blond looks back into the demon's silver orbs with a smile.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

        

Changed into jeans and a thick long-sleeved top, the cadet shoves his boots and hoodie on to brace himself for the icy outdoors. Bucky had slipped back into his designated uniform: demons cannot go around without it, despite the collars around their necks being able to give their ID.

Steve peeks briefly around his dorm door, checking the hallway for any sign of life. But there is nothing but silence and dimly-lit walls. The blond sighs, opening the door wider and allowing the demon to close it behind them as they traipse down the corridor. Steve is almost tempted to knock on Sam's door as they pass it, but thinks better of it.

Snow that has become caught in the wind immediately tangle into their hair and clothes as they exit the dorms. However, any flakes that land upon the demon instantly melt away into minute droplets. The blond glances at the demon from the corner of his eyes, only to find the dark class watching him, and not the white blanket that glistens around them.

“Bucky, do you have snow in the Netherworld?”

Before the demon can give any sort of answer, the cadet hears the crunch of freshly fallen snow that does not come from their own feet. The sound is in the near distance at first, but within a few seconds the noise gets louder, as if the person is jogging closer to them. Steve isn't sure who it is at first, but the demon's low growl puts the blond in a good position to have a guess.

As the cadet turns to look, a familiar voice calls out to him, and Steve doesn't have to see to know it is his closest friend.

“Steve!”

The blond stops in his tracks as Sam reaches them- his demon nowhere in sight. But, of course, why would someone _want_ to spend Christmas with their demon? Even Steve doesn't quite understand why he wants to _constantly_ be in Bucky's presence, and when he isn't... he doesn't understand why it feels so wrong for them to be apart.

Steve's attitude towards his demon is far from common, and one could even go as far as to say that their relationship is the only one of its kind.

But _why?_

Why does Steve feel this undeniable attraction to his demon?

The meaning of their interactions, and the reasons for them... are completely different issues that the blond doesn't understand. They are both confusing and full of potential risks for them both, and yet what Steve knows for sure is that he feels _so undeniably good._

“Hey, Sam.” The blond gleams up at his friend, only to be pulled into the other cadet's strong embrace.

It takes a moment for Steve to process the situation before wrapping his arms around Sam. The other cadet may not be as tall as Bucky, but the blond's head still has to rest against his collarbone. In times like this, Steve hates being short- it's only when his demon embraces him does the blond not mind feeling so small. However, there is also a clear distinction between Bucky and Sam's scent: while the human smells like soap and cologne, there is something very earthy and captivating about the demonthat the blond finds himself craving. But regardless, it isn't as if the blond is totally deterred by Sam's tight hug... it just makes him realise how much he enjoys Bucky's arms around him.

Although Steve can feel an intense unease in his gut, he knows it is not his own emotions that cause it. The hug only lasts a few seconds, but it is clearly a few seconds too long for the demon who stands idly by.

“Merry Christmas, Stevie,” Sam teases with a wide grin.

The blond rolls his eyes at the nickname only saved for special occasions. It's not that he dislikes the nickname... at least not as much as one would think. It is a word that shows just how close the two have become since meeting at the Pre-military Demon Course. Sam may tease the blond, but his tone is always full of affection, and never does he push it too far. Steve had never once thought that he would have a friend that he would feel so comfortable around. And yet, here is Sam Wilson, smiling at the smaller cadet with nothing but admiration, devotion and respect. Sam would do anything for the blond, just as Steve would do anything in return.

“Ha. Merry Christmas,” the blond replies sarcastically, even though his face reflects Sam's euphoric expression. Bucky watches how Steve's blue eyes seem to shine and glimmer, and not just with the snow that catches the sun's yellow rays... there is a happiness that can be just as obviously seen in his smile.

As the snowflakes settle atop those blond strands... Bucky can't help but think that Steve is the most gorgeous being he has ever had the privilege of gazing at. The younger man is stubborn, there is no doubt about it, but he is also kind and very good natured. But what the demon likes most about the blond, is that he allows the demon to see sides of him that no one else has ever witnessed.

“Did you sleep well?” Sam asks, completely ignoring Bucky's presence.

“Yeah, you know. I'm just excited.” The blond shrugs, folding his arms to protect himself from the light wind.

“To speak to your ma? I can't wait to talk to my siblings. They drive me nuts for sure, but I love them anyway. Family is family, right?”

Steve can easily see in his friend's eyes that he misses his family more than he will ever admit. But now the blond can't help but wonder whether Bucky has a family too. Do demons have parents? Do they have siblings or children? Demonologists have no idea how demons reproduce, and the idea of demons living as a family unit is the line of a good joke.

“Your brother is back from his military service, then?” Steve knows that Sam's older brother has been in the military for several years, and has been a source of inspiration for Sam.

“As far as I am aware he's taken temporary leave for Christmas. It'll be good to talk to him, its been ages. Though I don't think he'll be too happy,” Sam confesses, crossing his arms over his chest- though more in awkwardness than from the icy breeze like the blond.

“He doesn't approve of the whole demon bondin' thing, does he?” Steve winces, remembering Sam telling him as such. There is still a large amount of people who do not approve of using demons in the military, especially where bonding is concerned. Extremists have even likened the soldiers who are bonded to demons, as practically being demons themselves.

“God no, he thinks working with demons will get us into more trouble than good. But it was his choice to join the Human Military Service, and it was my choice to get into the Demon Programme.” Sam clearly doesn't regret that choice, despite the pressure he had to choose differently.

“He's still proud of you... he just worries,” Steve assures, his expression nothing but sympathetic.

“Like your ma,” Sam says, all too knowingly.

“But we're helping people. Or at least... we will once we make it through the next four and a half years.”

“Seems like a long way to go... and yet it's already goin' by so quickly,” Sam sighs before taking a big breath as if to clear his mind. “But I don't know about you, but I'm starvin'”.

“Mm, food sounds like a good idea,” Steve agrees, and the cadets begin to step towards the canteen, Bucky right behind them with a stare as cold as the air around them. “Is anyone else up yet?”

“Wanda, Bruce and Rhodey are already down there, and I saw Tony on my way out. But to be honest... he looked half-asleep.”

Steve laughs at that, not that he is surprised. Tony always looks as if someone had gone and dragged him out of bed every morning. The cadet works hard -Steve knows that- albeit the blond doesn't quite know what Tony must be working on to spend sleepless nights on it.

“I can't believe it's actually snowing on Christmas day though.” Sam holds his palm up in wonder, allowing snow to fall upon it as if to emphasise his point.

“I haven't seen snow in years, at least, not like this.”

“Yeah, you could actually make snowballs out of this stuff.” Sam chuckles.

“Don't give Clint any ideas,” Steve jests, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie over his white-knuckled hands. “I'm cold enough as it is.”

“Well, now I'm tempted to,” Sam jokes, lightly elbowing the blond's side.

Steve is sure he hears Bucky's low growls of displeasure, like a gentle drumming echoing off his chest and into the back of his throat. But it isn't as if the blond can turn around on his tiptoes and place a comforting kiss upon those lips... despite how much he wants to.

When the three of them reach the warm, humid canteen, they are greeted by a set of smiles and exchanges of _'Merry Christmas'._ Only Wanda has her demon beside her, seemingly relaxed until Bucky treads closer and the demon visible tenses.

It isn't too long after they all sit down for breakfast that Tony and Clint join them with Tony's demon. While the humans tuck into their (rather tasty) meal, the three demons stand behind their assigned cadet like body guards constantly on the look out for danger. Although demons are certainly not known to bother protecting their bonded humans, they are still very aware of their surroundings, and the army uses that to their advantage when on the battlefield.

But Bucky on the other hand... he's different from every other demon at the academy. Not because he is so powerful (and is yet to prove just how much) nor his class is unique. It is because he has an uncontrollable need -like an instinct- to protect the blond.

The demon is addicted to that wonderful, delicate scent and those pale features and... that god-damn stubborn attitude... and Steve's desire for knowledge. The blond evokes a curiosity about the human race that no one has ever managed to do. But, the demon's craving also runs right down to his very core. Steve's soft skin and entrancing eyes... the little laugh the cadet has when he feels self-conscious... All of that the demon finds extraordinarily beautiful.

Bucky's yearning for the blond is far from purely sexual, but it is still something very intimate.

These emotions are shared between both human and demon, and like fragments, they disperse to the surface. Yet they remain unsaid like an invisible force; inspiring their every interaction.

Once the cadets finish consuming the warm food that is a heavenly respite from the cold world outside, they talk amongst themselves. About their hopes of making it until the end of the course, and of the families they miss dearly.

Steve keeps to himself, only smiling at the creases in the corners of his team-mates eyes that show nothing but joy and optimism. Albeit the blond notices how Tony also stays quiet between the bolts of laughter from memories retold.

Steve doesn't know a whole lot about Tony, but he still cares for him... and he ultimately understands the sadness in his eyes. That sorrow comes from a father that is unable to be with their child, regardless of said child craving that support and approval.

“Hey, I'm going to head out to the labs now, I'll see you guys later,” Tony says as he pushes himself up from the table.

“I'll come out with you, I need to head back to the dorms anyway,” Steve declares, slipping a couple of fresh plums into his pockets as he and Bucky follow Tony and his demon. The rest of the cadets wave them goodbye with promises of meeting up later. As soon as they reach the cool air outside, Tony turns to question the blond.

“So what are you going back to the dorms so early for then?”

“I'm going to call my mother. She works night shifts so it's better to talk to her now rather than later.”

“Night shifts? Is she a nurse?” Tony asks, his dark brow raising in a questioning manner.

“Yeah, she's been a nurse since, well, forever,” Steve explains as Tony listens intently to the blond, watching him as they walk across the snowy paths. “She went part time when I was born, so that she could look after me until I was old enough to join the Pre-military Demon Course. Then she went full-time, but that means she gets stuck with night shifts. Not that she minds them. Ah, sorry, I'm talking too much.”

“No, no. Not at all. I enjoy listening to you. You clearly think a lot of your mom.”

“Of course, I wouldn't be here without her...” And that is the complete truth. Without water and nutrients, a tree cannot grow, and neither could Steve without his mother. “You calling any of your family today?”

“I'm just going to go to the labs to work on some tech. I don't really have anyone to call, so I might as well make use of my time.” Tony coughs to clear his throat, as if embarrassed.

But Steve can't help but hear a little bit of sadness in his voice.

“Why don't I come find you in the labs after I talk to my ma?” The blond suggests.

“You don't have to,” Tony quickly replies, though it would be a lie to say that he wouldn't enjoy Steve's company.

“Its okay, the tech stuff is really interesting. So maybe you could talk to me about what you're working on?” The blond smiles warmly, looking up at Tony with those blue eyes that radiate nothing but kindness.

“Yeah, alright. I'd like that.” Tony nods, hands diving into the pockets of his jacket.

“I'll see you in a little while then.” Steve gives a fleeting look at Tony's demon, albeit his words are directed at the other cadet. The blonde demon's face is blank and seemingly uninterested by their conversation.

Tony gives a curt nod and a smile in reply as they separate. Though it isn't more than thirty seconds later of walking that Bucky turns to the blond and speaks his mind.

“Do you have to go see him?”

“What? Well, no. But he hasn't got anyone else right now.” Steve tries to explain his way out of Bucky's displeased expression, but if anything, the demon frowns even more so.

“Does his demon not count?”

“She's not...like you.” Steve pauses before continuing. Clearly Bucky doesn't truly understand the meaning of companionship. “Tony just needs to know that someone is there for him, especially at this time of year. It's different the rest of the time, when we're all together... But he shouldn't have to be alone today.”

“I spent many years alone. He'll live,” Bucky grumbles, his tone anything but compassionate. In fact, the demon's voice is very much unemotional. Completely void of any feeling, like the white wasteland around them.

“Bucky, don't be a jerk,” the blond snaps, though he can't quite find the anger to truly reprimand the demon.

“I don't want you to see him on your own,” Bucky says more softly.

“You'll be coming too. I'm not going to leave you in my room... or in containment.” Steve can feel that lonely ache in his chest from just the mere thought of having to lock his demon in containment again. The times that he has had to, are enough.

“I don't like him,” the demon plainly declares. Bucky doesn't like anything about Tony- physique, intellect, and especially not his scent. Not when it had been ever so faintly on the blond's clothes that Halloween night. Even now, when Bucky knows that nothing happened... the demon still holds a grudge against the dark-haired cadet.

“You don't like anyone.”

“I like you.”

“I feel like you've said something similar before.” Steve blushes, feeling the warm heat spread across his cheeks. Albeit the blond could try and blame it on the snowflakes that caress his face, the demon can feel his embarrassment mixed with the sensation of euphoria.

“I only say what is true.” Bucky smirks, despite the hand that slips around the cadet's waist being so tender. The demon is careful that there is no one else around, and for a moment, it feels like it is just the two of them in a world of ice and velvet snow.

“I like you too,” Steve says quietly after a moment. “You're nothing quite like I expected.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Steve looks up at Bucky with the brightest smile, his eyes almost dream-like as he stares into those silver-flecked orbs. His words are said with such conviction and certainty...that it would be difficult for anyone to not believe him:

“Definitely.”

        

Steve's laptop gently hums to life as he leans back in his chair, patiently waiting... if a little excited too. Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees and knuckles resting under his chin as he stares at the blond.

“Don't, uh, say anything... Okay?”

“If I get a kiss I'll be on my best behaviour.” The demon attempts to bargain, but he only gains a giggle in response. Like the sound of sweet music to his ears, Bucky certainly doesn't mind listening to that sound, even if he has to miss out on kissing those pink lips.

“You get a kiss _after,_ if you're good,” Steve negotiates, though it isn't as if the demon won't agree with him. Their teasing lies on the foundation of knowing what the other desires. “I don't want my ma to worry that my demon is so...”

“Good-looking, handsome, strong and oh so powerful?” The demon sits up straight as if to emphasise his muscular chest. The blond may have stared a little too long before responding: caught up with re-living the feel of those taunt muscles beneath his palms, and of the heat that courses through them both when they are so utterly lost in the other's touch.

“That is beside the point.” Steve rolls his eyes at the demon. Bucky can't stop the smirk that spreads across his mouth when the blond doesn't deny it. “I was going to say- ah, I don't even know. Just make sure she doesn't see you.”

“So I can listen, but nothing more?”

“Precisely.”

“I gotta say, _Stevie,_ I'm feelin' a little left out here.” Bucky's eyes darken with his teasing words and the smirk that the demon never even tries to hide.

“Says the demon who got a handjob off me the other day,” Steve mutters under his breath, but Bucky's ears easily pick up those words.

“Mmm, alright. I'll be good.” The demon smiles, shifting onto his back upon the mattress, hands propping up his head so that he can still watch the cadet.

The blond gazes at the demon while he settles, subconsciously gnawing at his bottom lip before turning back to the laptop. Logging-in to the world's most used video calling software, Steve is surprised to see the little green dot next to his mother's name. The cadet is both thrilled and anxious about talking to his mother, like a kitten exploring their surroundings.

There is both a curiosity and a wariness as to what his mother may say to him.

Clicking the calling option, it takes several seconds for the screen to change into a picture of a familiar setting, with a just as familiar face.Like the sun's rays surrounding a snowy mountain, his mother's pale face is framed by golden hair. Tied up into a messy ponytail, it's as if she hasn't had the chance to comb back through it after a busy shift. Steve can only assume that is the case, especially considering that Steve can still see her blue uniform underneath a grey, woollen cardigan. It is obvious that she is tired, but that does nothing to dampen her bright smile and the blue eyes that gleam with happiness.

“Hi, Ma,”the cadet greets, his clear relief at seeing his mother's face makes his voice almost seem wistful.

“Steve, sweetheart. It's so good to see you.” Sarah's smile is a little out of focus due to the second-hand computer she's using, but it certainly doesn't blur her cheerfulness... But perhaps her smile hides her relief that her son is truly safe. Steve is entering a path fraught with dangers of many forms- it is only natural that one would worry.

“It's good to see you too, Ma.” His words have never been more true. “You worked the computer okay then?” Steve is all too aware that while Sarah may be fine working the hospital computers, she isn't exactly the best with figuring out apps.

“I'm not a complete fool with technology, Steve... I had help from Miss Bonnie,” Sarah admits, earning an amused, affectionate laugh from the cadet.

“Try not to bother her too much, Ma. She's busy with university work,” the blond warns her.

Steve is familiar with Bonnie: their neighbour who just so happens to be the cadet's age, which only means that Sarah won't ever stop talking about Steve to the poor blonde girl. The cadet rather his mother not get any ideas about match-making, even if she is subtle about it.

It's not that Steve doesn't like Bonnie, it's just that... he's not interested. Not even a little bit curious. Bonnie is beautiful, sure, but... if Steve were to think about that right now... he would think _she's not Bucky._

“She doesn't mind, she's a nice girl.”

“Ma,” Steve says sternly.

“I'm only sayin' that she's a nice, proper girl, who helps out old ladies like me,” Sarah jests with devious grin.

“You're not old, Ma.” The blond chuckles. There may be a few wrinkles painting his mother's face, but she is still young, even if her work is beginning to take its toll as the years go by.

“Always the charmer, Steve.” His mother laughs, and the blond realises just how much he has missed that sound. “Oh! Speaking of charming, how's Sam doing?”

“Sam is good too. We're both fine.”

“You're eating properly? Gettin' enough sleep too?” Sarah asks.

“Yes, of course.” The questions may be annoying, but the cadet finds it hard to be irritated by his mother's concern for him.

“And what about your demon?”

Steve's eyes automatically dart towards Bucky, who innocently reaches out for the plums left on the side of the desk. But the smirk on his lips suggest the demon is listening intently, and perhaps finds amusement in Steve's momentary speechlessness.

“Ah, ya know... They're a demon....” The cadet cringes at his own words.

What else could he possibly say that wouldn't get his mother questioning if Steve should actually be at the academy?

Bucky is... the word isn't _kind_ , but more like attentive and gentle with the blond. The demon is wholly teasing, and yet, there is never anything malicious behind his actions. Bucky acts in an almost human manner, so much so, that anyone except for the blond would be frightened to their core. Steve's demon in an anomaly in what humans know demons to be like. Anything or anyone that doesn't fall in-line with human understanding is to be feared.

Something to be feared is in turn something to be analysed under intense scrutiny.

“Mmhm. As long as you're safe.” Steve's mother evidently believes there is something more to it, but doesn't question the blond on it. The cadet appears healthy, and there is an essence about him that makes him seem more content and brimming with life than she remembers.

“There's a lot of safety procedures, Ma. Don't worry.”

“They're dangerous.” Sarah frowns as if recalling grim memories.

Steve instantly knows she is talking about demons. They both understand the danger all too well, for these creatures have impacted their lives in fatal ways.

“I know, Ma. That's why I'm here.”

“So stubborn in the face of danger, just like your father,” Sarah declares. It would have been a compliment, except that there isn't really any hint of approval in her voice. “Have you used the journal that he left you?”

“Yeah, its really useful. But, there's so much more to learn...” Steve notices his mother glance to the side, and the blond knows that she is looking at the clock upon the mantle piece. “Are you going back out again?”

“Yes, I have to go back to work soon. We're understaffed this time of year.”

“You worked last Christmas too, and you've just had a shift. Why don't you call in and have a rest?”

“I can't do that, sweetheart. And besides, I'll get the next Christmas off when you come visit your old mom.” Sarah smiles sweetly, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

“I'll hold you to that.” Steve returns the smile, but after a moment he comprehends just how exhausted his mother must be. “But, how are you doing?”

“I'm fine, sweetheart.”

Her words are not at all convincing, it doesn't take her son to work out that there is something wrong.

“Ma... You can tell me,” the cadet pleads.

“It's been difficult without you, Steve. I miss you,” Sarah admits with the most somber expression Steve has seen in a long while.

“I miss you too.”

“But I don't wont you to worry about me. The bills are being paid for the apartment and I am so, _so_ _proud_ of you, Steve. Your father would be just as proud too if he were here.”

The cadet can only pray for that to be true. Even if the bond between Bucky and Steve may be unique and perhaps unconventional... they are capable of many great things. With each passing day, their potential only increases. If Steve's father were alive... would he be proud of all that they will come to achieve? Even if it is only his father's death that has allowed the blond and the demon to meet.

“Thanks, Ma.” Steve smiles, his chest tightening. “I love you.”

“I love you too. You've grown into a fine young man.”

“Ma...” The cadet whines, finding himself almost blushing with the praise.

“Steve, I need to go now,” Sarah confesses regretfully, pulling her cardigan closer around her chest.

“Do you really have to?”

“I'm afraid so, sweetheart.” Her disappointment is undeniable, but so is the blond's. “But I can't wait to talk to you again, you look really well. It's put my mind at ease.”

“Don't overwork yourself, okay?”

“I won't,” Sarah promises. “And don't push yourself either, I know you do.”

“Alright, it's a deal then.” The blond grins, full of nothing but hope.

“Goodbye, Steve. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

And with that, the cadet is left staring at a blank screen, and with an ache in his heart. The blond closes the laptop with a quiet _click,_ planting his elbows on the edge of the desk as if in contemplation. But not even a second later the cadet has his face resting in the palms of his hands, breathing in only to let out a deep exhale in a moment of otherwise complete silence.

Bucky's eyes never leave the cadet's form; analysing his body language and judging the unfamiliar situation. There is a distinct emotion that radiates through their bond, albeit the feeling is foreign and unexplored by the demon. Unsure what the sensation is, Bucky only knows that he wants to hold the blond tightly in his arms and to never let go.

“ _Steve,”_ Bucky calls him gently, his voice low and nothing but gentle and encouraging.

The cadet looks to the demon's soft expression, is hands lowering just that little bit to reveal those blue, shimmering eyes that glisten with the beginning of tears. Bucky instantly turns onto his side, opening up his arms and the blond immediately gets up from the desk and onto the bed. Steve allows himself to be wrapped up and pulled against the demon's warm chest, his own hands gripping ever so slightly on Bucky's black shirt.

With one metallic arm rubbing along the cadet's spine, the other barely wraps around the blond's shoulders as he cradles the blond closer. Bucky places a light kiss atop Steve's forehead, breathing in his scent as his fingers work their way through the ends of golden strands at the nape of his neck.

They stay like that until the sun breaks through the clouds at the highest point in the sky, casting heated rays upon the fallen snow. The academy can only be described as quiet, and perhaps even heavenly... as ironic as that may be with so many demons caged within metal walls.

There isn't even a single hum from any vehicle that may tarnish the sheets of white with the gravelled dirt caught in their wheels. Just the laughs of a group of soldiers passing by the dorms on their way to somewhere a little warmer.

But neither Steve or Bucky are listening to the sounds outside the window, and neither human or demon utter a single word within the confines of the dorm- for there is nothing that needs to be said.

Despite being very much awake, their eyes have drifted shut, finding peace even if they can only ever find it when in the arms of the other. Steve's room may be shrouded in unseen, dark shadows, but the blond can feel them trace across his skin... and they are nothing but reassuring. Each being is completely intoxicated by the other's scent; drowning in their entwined auras and both are just as absorbed in the warmth of their touching skin.

Steve lets out a low groan, half-heartedly shifting out of the demon's arms, only to lie back down against him. Bucky chuckles at the blond's clear eagerness to stay with the demon, and his reluctance to move so much as a few inches away. The cadet rubs his eyes with the back of his hand, before slinging it around the demon's waist.

“We need to get up to find Tony...” Steve mumbles, his voice muffled by Bucky's chest.

“Mmm, no we don't,” the demon hums in reply, pulling the blond more firmly against him.

“Bucky, come on.”

“You're not exactly setting an example.” Bucky chuckles, nuzzling into those soft, growing hairs atop the blond's head.

“It's because you're so warm. And outside is so... _cold.”_ Steve can feel himself melting in the demon's arms, in complete, warm rapture. _“_ Anyway, we have to get up so I can give you that kiss.”

“That's debatable, isn't it easier to _do it_ lying down?” The demon presses his nose against the cadet throat, his breath caressing the sensitive, silky skin there.

“Oh my gods... Are you making a dirty joke right now?” The blond giggles, cheeks becoming that little bit pinker as the demon gives a teasing remark in reply.

“Does my answer affect the chances of me getting that kiss?”

“Depends on why you're suddenly cracking dirty jokes,” Steve jests, not expecting the serious tone he gets in return as he angles his head to meet the demon's gaze.

“I just wanted to see you smile again,” Bucky admits as his eyes find those hypnotising blue orbs. Steve is sure he is the only one embarrassed by the whole situation. Bucky's demeanour is as calm and collected as always when it is just the two of them embracing.

“Well... I-uh... suppose that's a good enough reason,” Steve stutters, his flushed cheeks nothing but obvious to the demon. Yes, clearly only the blond is embarrassed by Bucky's words.

The demon leans in with a smile, just enough for the blond to meet him the rest of the short distance between them to allow their lips to finally touch. The synchronised smooth slide of their lips has become second nature to them both. Regardless of whether their kiss is heated and desperate, short and sweet, or wet and begging... it is undeniable _good._ Full of pleasure and desire. Never truly rough, but always with passion. As if an invisible force is driving them together; their bond vibrating in lustful yearning and greed for the sensation of their auras entangling and coiling as their skin connect.

It is these moments shared merely between human and demon, that makes the blond forget the world around them... and just how foolish he has been.

 


	22. I Sense Your Wings Of Darkness All Around Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Twenty-one:  
> **Bucky explained that the shadows he can manipulate are known as 'Zwokaqz' in the Forbidden Language.  
> **Steve talked to his mother (who works as a nurse) on the morning of Christmas Day.

The walk to the laboratories is surprisingly pleasant. The wind feels cool against the blond's face, but the air isn't cold enough to make his fingers numb. After five more minutes of gentle kissing, the cadet had been able to finally drag both him and the demon away from the dorms.

Bucky doesn't say anything about the conversation with his mother, though whether that is for Steve's benefit, or if the demon just doesn't care is unclear to the blond. In reality, the demon does not want to feel that strange emotion that had caused tears to well up in the younger man's eyes. That sensation had been negative, though very different from anger and the demon doesn't quite understand it.

However, Bucky does understand that the emotion had pulled at his primal urges, coercing his natural instinct to protect the blond into comforting him. The demon has never known the heartache of missing someone dearly; to be filled with that sadness, grief and the yearning to be in that person's presence once more. But now, with the little blond walking beside him, the demon is slowing learning, even if he can't give a name to those emotions.

There is only one soldier leaning against the wall beside the doors of the laboratory building, a German Shepard dog at her feet. Steve thinks nothing of it until he sees the collar around the dog's neck embedded with symbols only ever used on demons. The tall, dark-haired woman gives a curt nod to the cadet as he and his demon step through into the labs.

Steve has never seen a demon in animal form before, though previous to when demon tech became so advanced, many demons took on animal forms to escape detection. Walking amongst humans as rabid creatures people have become familiar with through the years. Steve thinks demons should be given more credit where their intelligence is concerned.

There have been reports of demons taking on the shape of the family dog and attacking the unaware household, including children. To remain disguised until the very last second... there is certainly some tactic involved. Demons -although usually tricksters types- tend to consider their environment, even going to far as to take on the appearance of animals in their natural habitat, therefore making their own presence hard to identify.

Meaning that, in a town, demons are more likely to take the form of a dog or cat, while in more rural settings, demons are more likely to take on the form of a bull. This also varies in each country: a demon wandering the edge of an American swamp, will take on the form of an alligator, while in an Southern African wildlife reserve, a demon will take on the form of a lion, leopard, buffalo or hyena. These varied forms that demons can take on means that they can almost _camouflage_ themselves right in front of an unsuspecting human.

The latest in demon tech has allowed humans to overcome this problem: by being able to figure out if some wild fox, is actually a demon searching for its next kill. However, this only overcomes the issue in first-world countries or high-tech cities. Third-world countries which lack demon surveillance are the places most vulnerable to low-level demon attacks. A stray 'dog' is much more easily able to stroll through the slums than the brightly lit streets of a city.

However, this in turn means that cities such as New York are more likely to be targeted by high-level demons, especially electricity classes, and the effects are more often than not... completely catastrophic. But it does mean that attacks are far fewer than they could be. And yet, no amount of technology can eradicate the _fear._

It doesn't take Steve too long to find Tony hunched over pieces of metallic gears and fragments of eye-piece tech. The blond knocks twice on the open door before stepping into the room, not particularly shocked to find Tony's demon standing next to him. Her petite frame is dwarfed by Bucky's muscular stature, and although she stands proud, her shoulders seem to cave in when the dark class gets closer.

“Hey, Steve.” Tony swivels in his seat to greet the blond, his hands fiddling with two mechanisms which Steve has no clue as to their use. The area of demon tech is certainly not Steve's forte, but it never fails to intrigue the blond.

“What are you working on there?”

“I'm trying to modify the eyepieces we're using.”

“To detect auras?” Steve asks as he settles onto the stall next to Tony.

“Yeah, you see... Using the eyepiece allows us to see both human and demon auras. On the battlefield, that would get pretty confusing, but if we could manipulate the eyepieces to only detect demon auras, that would make it a whole lot easier,” Tony explains, leaning his arms on the table as he reaches for a small screwdriver.

“How far are you with developing that?”

“I'm close, but... there's something missing. I just don't know...” The dark-haired cadet sighs, his frustration clear.

“How to differentiate human and demon auras?” The blond slips off his jacket, folding it onto the long silver table. The labs are strangely warm, at least when compared to the icy breeze just a wall away.

“Exactly, although usually demons have larger auras, low level demons tend to have auras of similar size to humans. So obviously theres some difference in energy. But being able to detect different energy levels, and then differentiate human and demon auras of similar energies... is that even possible?”

“You said you were working on something to do with essence, right? Being able to detect demons of different classes nearby by using a sample of essence of that class?” Steve says after a moment.

“Yeah.. so what are you getting at?” Tony pauses the movements of his hands, turning to the blond as his brows furrow with the slightest bit of confusion.

“Well, if you use that technology and implement it onto a lower scale into the eyepieces, in a way that it can detect _multiple classes_ of demons at the _same time_... Then use a micro-computer to _filter_ through the auras it detects-” Steve barely finishes his sentence before Tony cuts him off, understanding where the blond's idea is leading them.

“So it would only show auras of creatures that have essence... Basically only leaving auras of _demons.”_

“Yeah.”

“You know what, Rogers, that ain't a bad idea,” Tony praises, his posture straightening as if his body has a new lease of life coursing through it.“But damn... that's going to take a fucking long time to make.”

“Well, its not as if you don't have the brains to make it work.” Steve shrugs, but his compliment has a low rumble vibrating in his own demon's chest- far from amused or indifferent with the conversation between the two cadets. Steve already knows that Bucky has a jealous streak in him (the Halloween incident is proof of that) and it's not as if the blond tries to pull that possessiveness to the surface, like how a prey may tease its predator.

It's just that the demon doesn't understand the concept of a platonic friendship. And so Bucky sees the cadet's friends, especially those who he is close to, as potential _threats._ Not in the sense that they have any sort of power compared to the dark class, but that they may try to mark Steve as their own. Smothering the blond in their scent or marring his skin... just the thought makes the demon uneasy.

Bucky does not see the blond as his property,for he savours the marks of the younger man's fingernails in his back -even if they heal so quickly- and the sweet scent that he can still taste on the tip of his tongue. Bucky belongs to Steve, as much as the blond belongs to the demon.

No, Steve is not his _property,_ but the intimacy between them... Bucky cherishes it, and under no circumstances will he ever give it up.

“Nothing but good comes out of that mouth of yours,” Tony teases with a smirk, before his tone turns just that little bit more serious. “You're kind...I don't know why I didn't like you at first.”

“I tend to have that effect on people,” the blond jests with light sarcasm.

“You miss your friends back home?” Tony's sudden question catches the blond by surprise.

“I, um... I was only really friends with Sam back in Brooklyn,” Steve honestly admits.

“You don't have some girl waiting for you?”

“Gods, no. Though I'm sure my ma would beg to differ.” The blond laughs and Tony can't help the laugh that also erupts from his throat; the cheerful notes echoing in the almost emptiness of the labs.

“You got someone you like here, then?”

“No! Uh, no. I'm more focused on, you know... getting through this course alive.” Steve clears his throat, averting his gaze for a moment and biting his lower lip in an effort to stop himself from blushing.

“Yeah, I know what you mean... But the hickey on your neck tells me something different,” Tony abruptly declares, watching the blond with a knowing expression.

“What?” Steve's hand immediately goes to the side of throat where Bucky had kissed and nipped at the skin there a few nights before. The blond can feel the heat rise in his cheeks as if a ray of sunlight is hitting against his cheeks. “That's not-”

“You don't need to say anything. Its none of my business.” The dark-haired cadet holds his palms out to the blond to stop him.

“I-”

“No, really. You don't have to explain yourself... You just might want to cover up your neck if you don't want your sex life to be the gossip of the group.” Tony chuckles, and Steve isn't sure that his blush couldn't get any shade darker.

“I'm so embarrassed right now...” Steve groans, the palm of his hand covering the red mark that seems to suddenly burn. Like a match being lit from inside of him.

“No need to be. You're a grown man... no matter how short you are.”

Steve just lets out another low, embarrassed groan in reply to the teasing remark.

“One lucky girl, huh?” Tony says after a moment, giving the blond just the smallest of smiles.

“It's not like that,” Steve blurts out, which only makes Tony grin even more. Unsure quite what to do with his hands the blond runs slender fingers through his hair to try and calm his racing heart and dissipate the tightness in his chest. As if someone is tying small rough ropes in-between his ribs and pouring thick ink over his blood vessels.

“Guy, then?”

Steve swears he sees Tony's eyes glance in Bucky's direction.

“Uhh-” Steve can barely get out any words of his defence before Tony interrupts him with the most brazen, mischievous smirk **.**

“Anyway, don't worry about it. I won't mention your secret _fling_ to anyone either.”

There is nothing malicious about his teasing, and his fondness for the smaller man is clear. Steve trusts Tony, and for a moment, he is almost tempted to confesses everything, for the weight of his secrecy is always heavy, even if his demon is there to bear it with him. But although Steve entrusts his life to Tony on the battle field, he cannot entrust Bucky's life to the other cadet.

“Its... not a _fling,”_ Steve mumbles softly. Though he can't help but think to himself: _what exactly is it?_

“Well, whatever you wanna call it, we're in the same boat.”

The blond looks up at the dark haired cadet, eyes wide in surprise. Steve isn't sure what Tony means, but it's not exactly difficult to see the way his gaze focuses on the other side of the room and how his smile disappears in uncertainty.

“Can I ask who?”

“Can _I?”_ Tony's dark brow raises ever so slightly.

The blond is silent, averting his gaze like a submissive pup.

“You must feel pretty proud, the stuff you've been working on is actually being used in the military.” Steve desperately tries to change the subject, utterly uncomfortable with where their conversation was heading.

“Now I just want them to be used for the right reasons,” Tony half-heartedly jokes, clearly glad with the different topic, but Steve can sense an undeniable seriousness to his words.

To use demon tech for the right reasons?

Is there such a thing? The blond does wonder...

Demon tech only exists to help humans eradicate demons from the realm these fierce creatures have invaded. It is the only reason that other forms of technology are not as advanced: all efforts have been put into creating demon tech. Otherwise... humanity may not have survived, and still... humanity may not live to see the day the earth is free of demons.

Steve thinks that humans may have the wrong goal in mind where demons are concerned. Clearly not all demons are rabid creatures fuelled with aggression and the desire to kill. The blond has seen how demons -or at least one- are capable of being _gentle._ Demons are capable of being calm next to their bonded humans, even if technically they have no other choice...

Is it too much to think that perhaps demons fear humans as much as humans fear them?

There is no communication between humans and demons, meaning there is no transfer of knowledge. This ultimately leads to fear, and that, leads to impulsive actions that end in chaos and death.

Demons may be animals that are known to react to even the most unprovoked situation: hunting down humans, soldiers and civilians alike... destroying cities and tearing down civilisations...

But humans are exactly the same.

Steve wholly believes that if demons did not exist, then humans would merely destroy one another instead.

Where there are living beings, there is little hope for peace. But that doesn't stop the minority from trying to achieve it regardless. Change can take an incredibly long time to occur, and perhaps there is very little chance of there ever being peace between humans and demons.

It takes beings from both sides- a human and a demon- either set on the goal of peace to change the world...or a partnership that can challenge every false belief and ounce of hate.

That...and something truly unforgettable.

        

“No more leaving marks on me.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Bucky fakes innocent, even if the cadet knows him far too well by now to be fooled by it.

“You know exactly what I am talking about. You _knew_ you had left a mark on my neck, and yet you didn't say anything.” The mark being just a little out of the blond's immediate line of sight -even in his reflection in the mirror- he had honestly failed to notice just how much the demon had marred his pale skin.

“You seemed to rather enjoy me making it at the time,” Bucky hums, eyeing the blond in his peripheral vision.

“That is not the point,” Steve huffs, more annoyed with himself for the embarrassed blush that just wont seem to disappear. Their boots crush the tainted white beneath them as they walk back to the dorms before meeting up with the _Avengers_ for dinner later.

“Mmm, your moans were quite delicious.”

“Bucky, don't push it,” Steve warns, not quite able to eradicate his own smile. Shaking his head, the cadet lets out a small, disbelieving groan. “I can't believe Tony saw it...”

“Now he knows that he can't touch you,” the demon simply states.

“I am so mortified right now- Wait, what did you just say?” Steve halts in his tracks, right outside of the dorm entrance.

“I didn't say anything.”

“You did! You marked me on purpose... _again.”_ Steve folds his arms defensively, meeting the demon's gaze and refusing to look away, no matter how badly that smirk makes his knees feel weak. Steve had finally been brave enough to put aside his embarrassment and inexperience to try and make the demon see just how much he wants _this_ too. Their relationship. Their bond... Yet, the more steps they take, the more of a chance there is that someone finds out. “What are you, possessive or something?”

“You don't seem that angry about it.”

“Only because Tony didn't figure out it came from _you,”_ the blond reprimands, albeit his voice drips with concern and worry. “What if he knew you and I were... _you know._.. kissing and... We could have gotten in trouble. I mean, technically we aren't doing anything that is strictly against the rules... But we're just not _supposed_ to, you know? It's frowned upon, it's _gossip,_ and I don't want my team mates to to think that...Uh, I don't even know what I'm trying to say.”

“You just don't want your _friends_ to think low of you?” Its barely a question. The demon doesn't say it mockingly, but he does say it with an edge of something akin to hurt.

“Yeah... It's not that I'm ashamed of... _us_... whatever this is... When people do _that s_ ort of thing with their demon, it's just meant to be physical. But with you... I feel that our _bond_ is different,” the younger man confesses, his voice getting quieter with each word.

“I understand.”

“You do?” The blond's expression softens when the demon doesn't deny the fact that, yes, their bond is different from every other single bond ever created. There is nothing that can match their greatness, and there is nothing that can ever compare to the beauty of their bond.

“Though I don't particularly care what my _own kind_ may think of _whatever this is,_ as you so eloquently put it, because they wouldn't even care themselves. Although they may think it abnormal for sure. But regardless, I enjoy your company, and I have never been able to tolerate someone else's presence before,” the demon clarifies, unsure of how else to describe it, for what he feels is so very unfamiliar to him.

“Wow, _tolerate_ me, huh?” Steve raises a brow at that, challenging the demon.

“That isn't exactly what I meant,” the demon explains, following the cadet when he turns to enter the dorms. “I like you; I think you are a great soldier, and the perfect warrior. What those humans think, or would think, doesn't matter. I will not allow them to do you any harm.”

“I was more worried about you.” Steve doesn't know what else to say. It would be a lie to say that he isn't taken aback by the demon's confession- even if some of those words have been uttered before. “I don't want Tony, or anyone else to know and then one of the higher ups to find out. It'll just give them another reason to scrutinise our bond and analyse you.”

“You don't ever have to be concerned about me.” Bucky smiles, for there is something rather pleasant blossoming in his chest at knowing that Steve wants to protect him just as much as Bucky wishes to protect the human. “And if it makes any difference, It would be extremely... what is the word? Hypocritical? Of that man if he said anything about us.”

“What do you mean?”

“He rarely put his demon in that containment building.” The demon's voice hardens towards the end, his distaste for any demon-containment facility evident.

“So what are you trying to say?” Steve feels like he is missing something.

“Although the circumstances may be different, you are not the only human amongst your _team-mates_ being _intimate_ with a demon.”

“Oh my gods... Are they _fucking?”_ Steve gasps, shock racing through him before his anxious thoughts take over. “Does _she_ know about us?”

“She is probably aware. But she can't say anything.”

“Because she doesn't speak English?”

“It's likely that she knows some words by now, even if she doesn't voice them. But she knows to keep to herself,” Bucky explains, though it is clear that he doesn't wish to say anything more.

“How can you be so sure?”

“She is well aware of the fact that I will not have second thoughts about killing her if she does anything to put you in danger.” Bucky's expression is dark, his voice on the verge of being a _growl_ as he steps closer to the blond _._

Bucky, in some ways, is just like any other demon. Any ethics surrounding death are non-existent, for even murdering your own kind is considered merely survival of the fittest. Bucky doesn't see anything wrong with killing- be it human or demon. It is something that he has never once thought immoral, and he continues to be free of any guilt from the lives he has taken- and the demon has taken many.

There are certainly no rules amongst demons about harming one another, and the Demon War is proof of that. Demons are known to be solitary hunters in the human realm, only thinking of themselves and their next target. Therefore (as far as humans are aware) demons do not hold grudges. The idea of _revenge_ is entirely human. Demons react in the moment, and do not seek out humans who have harmed demons, but instead attack those who just so happen to be nearby.

However, for intelligent demons -like Bucky- vengeance is something understood. But the revenge is not for their own kind, but for _themselves._ These demons have a more complicated, and yet still very primal, thinking process.

Although they don't care about their fellow demons being murdered in cold blood, revenge can still be inspired in the more intelligent creatures. For they are not righteous, but _fiercely possessive._

All demons, no matter their class, level, or type, are possessive of their _target._ Demons will not allow others near their chosen prey- desiring the kill for themselves.

Higher level demons are also possessive of their _territory._ Demons who claim a large area, despise other demons within it. Usually only the presence of very low level demons are tolerated in marked territories, as they are not seen as a threat.

Finally, some high level demons have been discovered wearing amulets, or crystal-encrusted jewellery, often embedded with symbols. Humans do not know their uses (if any) and yet demons will not allow humans or other demons to touch such pendants.

If one of these three things were to be threatened or destroyed in some way, a demon may think to act out in their anger and find satisfaction through the infliction of suffering.

However, Bucky is different.

Wanting to protect _someone else_ is not a demon characteristic, especially when they don't want to harm that person themselves. A demon wanting to protect their bonded human is unheard of, and if anything, it's utterly bizarre and unique.

“You're joking, right?” Steve practically chokes in his words, his throat feeling tight as if there is a hand wrapped around it, squeezing his windpipe.

“Of course not.” The demon frowns at the blond's startled, disbelieving gaze.

Steve can't quite believe that Bucky would actually want to protect him, even if the blond would do anything himself to make sure that they stay bonded. Not just because he needs the demon to become a soldier, but because he wants to be by the demon's side even without a battle raging on around them. Regardless of the fact that such a thought would be viewed as irrational... that Steve would be seen as _bewitched_ and _insane._

_It is what it is._

Steve cannot change how he feels, just as much as he cannot change himself. Even if he knows that his relationship with Bucky is not normal...That their interactions and the sensations that come with each touch are forbidden by unsaid rules. But neither are willing to give up the incredible feeling the other's presence, of their skin connecting and the bond that hums in euphoria.

“You would kill... to protect me?” Steve just has to confirm it, even though he already knows. He can feel it through their bond; can feel the determination and the demon's grave desire to protect the cadet.

“Always.” Bucky's eyes... the blond can see just how certain the demon is. They are darker than usual, and there is something almost terrifying about them, yet they seem to beckon to the younger man. They give him a feeling a safety.

“Even your own kind?”

“Without any hesitation.”

        

“ _Fuck!”_

Bucky perks up at the sound of Steve's voice and the unmistakable bang of a body hitting the shower stall door. It's reasonably late in the evening on Christmas Day, and the rest of the _Avengers_ are still in the canteen eating some sort of seasoned dessert that neither the blond or his demon had any interest in. Not when he and Bucky had the chance to sneak away into the near-privacy of the showers.

“Steve?” The demon drops the fresh towels by the sinks, his bare feet pattering on the floor as he ponders over to the cadet.

“The water is hot,” Steve gasps, reaching out his hand to try and change the temperature of the scalding water. “Like, actually fucking _hot.”_

Bucky chuckles at that, slipping under the warm cascade with the blond, wrapping his arms around that slim, pale waist. It feels almost as if smooth lava is gliding down the contours of their bodies, erasing the cold patches left by frozen crystals that once again fall as the sun disappears from the sky.

“Hey, who said you could get in with me?” Steve taunts with a shy smile, his body betraying his words as he leans back against the demon's chest. The feel of Bucky's form aligning with his own is nothing but comforting- even if it makes his cheeks look as if pink flowers have erupted to the surface of his skin in a blush.

“Your pretty little body did.” The demon smirks, pressing a kiss to the side of the cadet's throat, right above that reddened mark.

“You think my body is _pretty?”_ The blond scoffs. Though in all honesty, he isn't offended by Bucky words, but rather he is flatter by them- though he would never actually admit it.

“Do you not think so?” Bucky's muffled words caress along the blond's neck, ghosting the pink shell of his ear as his finger tips rubs against the cadet's sides. “You are very _divine.”_

“Are you trying to _seduce_ me?”

“I think it is you, who is trying to seduce me,” the demon murmurs in reply, feeling the younger man's smile through the gentle hum of their bond.

A small laugh escapes the blond, and Bucky can feel it vibrate through his own chest. As Bucky nuzzles the younger man's throat, Steve leans his head back against the demon's shoulder, his eyes gently close as he basks in the heavy, warm droplets that fall upon them.

“Mmm, feels good,” the blond sighs, just loud enough for the demon to hear as he relaxes in Bucky's embrace.

“Yeah, you want me to touch you somewhere else?” The demon coaxes, voice tentative and yet teasing as always.

“I meant the water...” Steve tuts as he bats the demons hands away when they slide lower than his sharp hip bones. Bucky gives a light nip to the purpling mark of his throat in retaliation, albeit his arms entwine once more around the blond.“... _and_ you. It's strange that the water is this hot though.”

“There is a demon manipulating the water pipes two floors above us,” Bucky confesses plainly.

“What? A fire class?” Steve angles his head to look up into his demon's eyes, his own brimming with curiosity.

“Yes, they're heating the pipes. I assume that's why the water is warmer than usual.”

“Are they with their bonded human?”

“I would have said something sooner if they were on their own.”

“I don't get it,” the cadet admits after a moment, resting his head back on Bucky's shoulder, the movement causes a few delicate, blond strands to detach and stick to the damp skin of the demon's chest.

“Hmm?” Bucky continues to place sweet kisses along the blond's throat, tracing his lips across his pale shoulder and back up to the younger man's ear.

“Why someone would use their demon for something so mundane.”

To use a demon for something so selfish... it makes the cadet feel uneasy with just the mere thought of it. Steve firmly believes that demons should only aid soldiers in defending those who cannot protect themselves against such creatures. They should not be used and degraded as if they are wild animals that humans need to tame to benefit self-centred human needs.

Bucky's arms wrap more firmly around the younger man's chest, feeling the faint bumps of his ribs as he presses their bodies ever so closer. Steve blushes at the all-too-close proximity, yet he finds himself being calmed as their auras coil around them. For a few seconds, the cadet forgets that they are at the academy, and ultimately his purpose for being there.

The blond shifts in the demon's arms, pressing their chests together as he finds those eyes which hold just the slightest bit of emotion in their very depths. Droplets of water slide down his cheeks and lips, gathering in the cadet's long lashes as he cups Bucky's jaw with the palm of his hands. Leaning up onto his tiptoes, the blond plants the briefest of kisses upon the demon's lips. There is no real reason for his actions, it's just that the blond craves the sensation... and the satisfaction it always brings, even if it isn't ever truly enough.

As Steve leans back in an attempt to slip from the demon's hold, Bucky chases after his lips with more fervour. A small, light-hearted laugh escapes the blond at the demon's eagerness, but he still can't find it within himself to resist his touch. The demon's tongue gently swipes over the younger man's lower lip in a silent demand, and Steve opens his mouth almost instantly with a gasp that drowns within the noise of the cascading water.

They both know that they don't have the luxury of time to take their desire for the other further than their not so innocent kisses- even if the synchrony of their lips is rather beautiful. The _Avengers_ could come back at any moment, and although Bucky would be able to sense them, Steve isn't sure that the pair would even be able to stop.

Forcing himself to break past the desperation of their kiss, Steve slips from the demon's tight hold and turns to the dispenser upon the wall. The foamy yellow liquid isn't exactly pleasant, but it does make the cadet feel clean as he brushes it through his hair, the demon's hands never once leaving his hips. The younger man can feel the demon's stare burning into his spine...and every other exposed inch of the cadet's skin.

“Want me to wash your hair too?” The blond asks shyly.

“There isn't really a need for it.”

“Alright, then.” Steve pats his chest once before slinking past the demon with a sly smile. But the cadet barely makes it two steps before Bucky's metallic fingers encase his wrist.

“You can still wash it though.”

“Okay.” Steve places his feet in front of the demon's, the distance between them barely nothing, and yet it feels incredibly far.

The blond teasingly slides the back of his hands up along the demon's chest until he reaches those dark strands. Running his fingers through the demon's hair, he begins to undo those tiny knots that have formed from being exposed to the wind outside. Bucky stands patiently, his eyes watching Steve's expression of pure concentration as both human and demon relish in the bliss of such a _domestic_ interaction.

After a few minutes, that familiar ache in the cadet's arms begins to spread through his muscles from the demon being far too tall to reach comfortably, and the blond says as such to the him jokingly.

“Want me to kneel?” The demon asks with a playful smile, knowing exactly what to say to get the blond's heart thumping just a little bit faster.

“You don't have to-” Steve barely has his words out before the demon carefully drops to the ground with a slick thud as his knees touch the wet floor.

“Mm, wow. What a great view.” Bucky's breath skims the blond's flesh as he finds himself lost in the different tones of pink and red spread before him. So close, that all the demon has to do is tilt forwards to allow his lips to meet the hot surface of the cadet's upper thighs, his hips, and the faint bump of the blond's stomach... and everywhere else that would cause the younger man to moan with his touch.

Steve blushes, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he stares down at the demon on his knees in front of him. It reminds the cadet of when they first met: how the demon fell before him as the collar trapped him in the human realm.

A kiss to his naked hip has the cadet blinking out of his troubled thoughts.

“Behave,” the blond warns, but the demon merely smirks in response.

The cadet works the shampoo through the demon's hair, allowing the excess liquid to pool at their feet before vanishing down the drain. Steve refuses to meet the demon's eyes, for he knows they will be just as wild as his own unsteady pulse. Gentle but firm, the demon's chest vibrates with a low growl that might as well be a purr as the blond's fingers entangle and slip through Bucky's hair. In such innocent pleasure, the pair could have stayed like that for eternity.

        

Back in the quiet of the dorms, Steve leans back against his pillow as he flicks through his father's journal. The blond adds little scrawled notes at the very edges as his demon lies next to him, whose eyes are closed regardless of him actually being wide awake- quietly listening to gentle sound of the cadet breathing. But a rhythmic knock on the door has the demon's eyes opening and Steve placing his journal on the desk. The blond doesn't have to tell the demon to be quiet as he lifts himself from the mattress, bare feet tapping against the floor.

“Hey, we're all going to the lounge, did you wanna come with us?” Sam offers, the fresh scent of the blond's shower hitting his nose.

“No, I'm going to stay here,” Steve kindly refuses. When Sam asks if he's sure, the cadet nods his head with a small smile. “Yeah, you go have fun.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I just want to be on my own for a bit, I'll see you tomorrow.” The blond can see the wariness in his friend's gaze, and yet he still spits out lies he so desperately needs Sam to believe.

“Alright, then. If you change your mind you know where to find us.” Sam gives a small wave as he turns around. The blond waits for Sam to almost reach the end of the corridor before allowing the door to click shut once again.

His back to the demon, the cadet gnaws at his bottom lip before his hands finally drop to his sides. Steve feels incredibly guilty, but he also feels that he his doing _right._ Especially as he switches off the light and makes his way back over to his demon's embrace. As the blond gets closer to the bed, he reaches for the white hem of his long sleeved t-shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth, desirous motion. The fabric hits the grounds just as the blond's knee nudges the demon's legs on the bed.

“You want to be alone?” The demon questions as the blond settles himself firmly against the demon's chest, resting his face in the crook of Bucky's shoulder. The warmth of their naked chests erases any space between them.

“I didn't know what else to say,” Steve whines, slipping his arm around the demon's waist, their legs just ever-so-slightly entwining.

“You're getting better at lying.” Bucky had noticed the way Steve's breaths had stayed even and how he hadn't ran a hand through those blond locks of his. The cadet had been calm until the very last moment when Sam left.

“I just want to be with you, he wouldn't understand that.” Upon realising the meaning of his own words, the blond immediately becomes flustered, looking everywhere but at his demon's silver-flecked orbs. “Forget I said that.”

“I can't do that,” the demon teases, using his metallic hand to coax those pink lips closer with the gentle pressure of fingers under his chin. “You're quite irresistible when you're embarrassed.”

“Full of compliments tonight, ain't ya?” Steve giggles, allowing the demon's lips to press against his own. “Merry Christmas, Bucky,” Steve softly whispers, his breath gracing the demon's skin like the petals of a newly blossomed rose.

“I want to give you something,” Bucky confesses, watching how the blond's expression becomes blank with confusion.

“You want to give me something?” Steve repeats, unsure what the demon could possibly give him.

“A present. Is that not what people do on this occasion?”

“I...yes. But-” Steve stumbles over his words, intrigued by the demon's carefree smirk and the tender whisper that has the blond faltering to a stop.

“Close your eyes.”


	23. Your Darkness Is  A Gift, Not A Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Twenty-two:  
> **Steve visited Tony in the laboratories, where they work on developing the eyepieces to isolate demon auras.  
> **Tony questioned whether Steve likes someone, due to seeing a mark on Steve's neck.  
> **Steve, completely flustered, denied it, and Tony revealed that he is in a similar situation- but neither admit with who.  
> **However, Bucky informed Steve that there is something going on between Tony and his demon.  
> **On the night of Christmas Day, Bucky revealed that he wants to give Steve a present.

Steve does as the demon commands, sitting up on the bed and slowly closing his eyes despite the urge to keep them open. But never, should a cadet allow themselves to become weak in front of their demon; to show their vulnerability is nothing but foolish. But Steve closes his eyes, and he allows the darkness to overtake his vision, like how thousands of bats may block out the light of the moon. Demons take advantage of human weakness, for destruction is seemingly their ultimate goal- to bring chaos where there was once peace.

Yet Steve still closes his eyes, knowing this... knowing that Bucky _could_ kill him. That Bucky could strangle him, burn him or beat him into a bloody mess. That Bucky could stop the thumping of his heart in an instance. That Bucky could wrap his shadows around Steve and turn him into nothing but ash and particles of black dust.

But, yes, Steve closes his eyes because without a doubt, he trusts the demon with his life.

Using his loose hold around the cadet's waist, the demon urges him closer. Steve can feel the bed dip as the demon crosses his legs, only to then be coaxed into the demon's lap. Leaning his back against the demon's chest, the blond bends his knees slightly as his ankles entwine in front of them. Not quite understanding what Bucky's aim is, Steve patiently waits, ignoring the growing instinct to open his eyes and find the demon's attentive, affectionate stare.

Fiddling with the soft, grey fabric of his sweatpants, the younger man begins to feel a gentle warmth radiating from the demon's arms by his sides. But he cannot see the shadows that twist and entwine around the demon's right hand.

“I didn't intend to give this to you so soon, but I have nothing else to offer you here,” Bucky confesses.

“You don't need to give me anything at all. I don't have anything to give you in return.” Even as Steve says this, he knows that he will cherish anything the demon gives him, and a part of him can't help but become intrigued.

“You have already given me enough. The other day...”

“Ah, I- I had just wanted to do _that_ for you. To make you feel good.” Steve blushes, tripping over his hasty words.

“I know that, my little warrior. But I still want you to have this.” The demon chuckles, which only makes Steve's cheeks even more pink.

A gasp escapes the blond at the feel of something cold and round being placed against the very centre of Steve's bare chest. It's as cool as metal, and yet it is smooth and rough at the same time, almost like stone, or perhaps a flat pebble that had been washed up on a lake's shore. It is no bigger than the size of the cadet's palm, but it has a certain heavy weight to it.

Not a second later, Steve can feel the roughness of two strands of leather-like material trailing up his collarbone, and the touch of the demon's fingers tying the two pieces together at the nape of his neck. Planting a kiss upon the younger man's skin, just below the knot, the demon wraps his arms back around the cadet's stomach.

“You can open your eyes now,” Bucky murmurs into his hair.

“It's beautiful...” Steve admires the talisman, taking it into his hand to inspect it closer. The pendant is indeed silver, but as the cadet stares at it for a little longer, he can almost see flecks of different colours in the stonework. In the very centre, is a large rusted symbol. All at once, the blond feels something familiar course through him. “Wait a second. Hold on, where did you get this?”

“It is mine,” the demon states simply.

“But, where... I haven't seen you wearing this.” Steve frowns with confusion, for there is definitely something familiar about the pendant, but he just can't seem to figure it out.

“I concealed it with my power just after I came through the gateway.”

“I- oh my gods, I remember it now. I can't believe I forgot all about it.” Steve recalls how the amulet had dangled against the demon's chest; like a faint memory coming forth through thick mist until finally, it can be seen as clear as a star on a cloudless night.

“You were rather out of it at first,” Bucky teases the blond with a nip to the side of his throat.

“Don't remind me,” Steve groans. But after a moment, the demon's sudden murmured words has the cadet's breath catching in his throat, and his heart pounding an unsteady rhythm.

“You're just as beautiful now as you were when I first laid eyes on you.”

“Have you done something bad?” The blond jests with a smile, although the demon only becomes puzzled in response.

“I don't understand.”

“Well you keep giving me all these compliments... Like you're trying to make up for something.” Steve's light laughter is definitely music Bucky could listen to for eternity.

“You do not like me complimenting you?”

“It's not that...” Steve replies quietly, suddenly more serious than before.

“Then, you _like_ me complimenting you?” Bucky grins, searching for the blond's gaze, but Steve keeps his focus on the talisman.

~~_It makes my heart skip a beat every time. It makes me flushed. I feel like I could lose all sense of control when you look at me that way and utter such flattering words. I wonder what you see in me, but when I gaze into those eyes of yours, I know that it is something good you have found in mine._ ~~

“It makes me embarrassed, but... I'm just not used to it I guess.” Steve shrugs, for there isn't another way to put it.

“Is that a yes?” The demon smirks knowingly, his fingertips tracing the cadet's smooth sides.

“Mm.”

Bucky chuckles, resting his chin on the cadet's shoulder before reaching to press a kiss to his cheek, the skin warm against the demon's lips. Steve admires the amulet and the way its round edge seems to glint in the dim light that barely illuminates their forms on the bed. The blond frowns at the symbol embedded into the talisman's surface, for it is not one he recognises.

“Is this symbol a part of your language?” Steve asks after a moment.

“Yes, I'm assuming you want to know its meaning.”

“And what it does. What's its purpose? How long have you had it for? What is it made out of? Where in the Netherworld did you-” The younger man cant even finish his stream of queries before the demon cuts him off.

“I can only answer so many questions at once, my little warrior,” the demon replies, amused with the blond's desperation for knowledge.

“Sorry...” Steve mumbles as Bucky watches the tips of his ears turn pink.

“I don't mind.”

And that is the truth. The cadet can ask as many questions as he likes, especially when Bucky can answer them, for when he does... the demon is more than a little fond of that expression on Steve's face whenever he finds out something new.

“Tell me about this, then. I'll just listen,” the blond promises, albeit they both know it is one hard to keep. The cadet is constantly brimming with many questions for his demon, and at times, they break to the surface without a second thought.

“The symbol means protection.”

“From what?”

“Who said they were going to _just listen?”_ Bucky scolds. The demon feels the opposite of irritation -for Steve's curiosity attracts the demon like a moth to a shard of light- and yet he still wants to tease and make the younger man blush.

“Uhh-”

“It is used to protect the wearer from other demons.” Before the cadet can ask _how,_ Bucky continues. “When activated, it can conceal the wearer's aura.”

“So to camouflage yourself... or, to hide?”

The dark class could have used the amulet to conceal himself from more powerful demons- to hide for his own survival. Or perhaps he used it to to gain an advantage, and to allow himself to get close enough to kill anything and everything that dare try to exist.

Steve doesn't dare ask which is correct.

“Yes, it works so that the wearer doesn't give off an energy signal that demons can track or detect...It has been in my possession for around four-hundred years, and is made from _Zsafy,_ a type of stone-”

“ _Zee-ah-feae?”_ The Forbidden Language sure is strange, at least from the blond's perspective. The very idea that demon's have their own language is... breathtaking. But Steve wants to learn more about it, for it might allow him to become just a fraction closer to Bucky and the world he comes from.

“Your pronunciation is good,” Bucky praises, earning a shy smile from the blond before continuing. “This amulet... it is infused with my power.”

“How much?”

“Just a little.”

“So it's activated?” Steve questions, half expecting the amulet to glow when activated. But instead, the talisman is dull enough not to catch attention.

“I activated it just before giving it to you,” Bucky confesses- he has no reason to hide the fact that he wants to protect the soldier in his arms. Steve is different from every other human, and the demon is not willing to ever let any being -demon or human- harm him. It isn't something the dark class had ever thought about. The desire to protect Steve is an ingrained instinct that nothing can overwrite or erase.

“You can't see my aura anymore?” The younger man feels something akin to sadness at the idea of Bucky not being able to see his aura- as if the demon would become blind to the cadet himself.

“I can, but that is only because my essence is embedded into the amulet.” Steve's aura remains as vibrant as always to the demon's eyes.

The blond stares at the pendant, in awe of it, and also beyond flattered that his demon had presented it to him. So much so, that the cadet can't quite stop himself from smiling; not that he is even aware of the fact that he is smiling as if completely captivated.

Steve is almost sure that he can smell the faint scent of a forest. There is a distinct fragrance only ever associated with enormous, overgrown trees, wet soil and bodies of water thriving with life. But the demon's gentle, commanding words in his ear has him blinking out of his daydream before he can even begin to question it.

“When ever we are apart, you must wear this.”

“Why?” Steve just as softly asks.

“To keep you safe.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Bucky. And we're hardly ever apart anyway.” The blond snakes his arm to reach behind the demon's neck, craning his own to allow their gazes to meet in the dimness of the room. Slender fingers catching in the demon's hair, Bucky's voice becomes more firm- but there is roughness to it, almost like desperation as the darkness in those orbs beg for the cadet to understand.

_“Steve.”_

“Okay, okay. I'll wear it.” Steve plants a kiss upon the demon's lips, not quite containing his smile and the gleam in his eyes. “Thank you.”

That night, as snow begins to fall once more, the cadet sleeps soundly in the arm's of his demon, the talisman resting against his chest between them.

       

“I can't believe that you actually convinced me to come to this,” Steve complains, arms wrapped around himself with his grey hood up to protect his ears from the howling wind.

“Just wait with me until midnight, okay? Celebrate the new year with us.” Tony slinks his arm around the cadet's shoulders as he gestures to the night sky.

As a tradition -much like on Halloween- the cadets gather on the rooftops of the dorms on New Years eve. For if they look far enough into the distance, they will be able to see the colourful lights that illuminate New York City in the form of fireworks. At the stroke of midnight, vibrant colours will wash over the dark sky. In those few seconds, the cadets can cheer for a brief moment of peace before the year begins to take its toll on them all.

The only thing stopping the cadets becoming frozen by the icy wind, is the numerous bottles and plastic cups becoming less and less full of alcohol. Although as soon as Steve had arrived he was given a bottle of cheap beer, the blond had merely pretended to take a few sips before abandoning the beverage amongst other discarded drinks. The empty bottles hiding the evidence that the cadet can't actually handle alcohol well; albeit his zero tolerance had once provided Sam with quite the laugh.

“Fine... But I'm goin' straight to bed after, though.” The blond feels self-conscious with Tony's hold pulling him so close into the other cadet's side. But still, he does like his company... although it's not even comparable to how much Steve desires Bucky's presence.

The demon awaits the blond's return in the security of Steve's room, keeping silent in the shadows, although listening to the rhythm of the music that echoes through the floors. Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, staying in place just as the younger man had asked him to before disappearing behind the door. However, a part of the demon is still with the cadet: in the form of an amulet hidden under the blond's shirt, the stone pressing firmly to his chest.

“You two are looking chummy,” Clint taunts as he strolls over to them, his black, unzipped jacket catching in the wind.

“They're getting more action you are tonight,” Rhodey jests as he joins the trio, Wanda, Sam and Bruce following closely behind.

The _Avengers_ laugh as Clint rolls his eyes, but ends up smiling regardless. Steve can't stop the small blush that forms, even if he joins in on their affectionate laughter. Tony's arm falls from the blond's shoulders, and relief instantly washes over the smaller man.

“Alright, guys, it's almost midnight,” Sam declares as he checks his watch, and as if on cue everyone on the building begins to countdown. Each set of hopeful eyes turn towards the direction of the city as their raucous voices ring out across the rooftops.

The only voice that quietens... is Steve's. A joyous façade plastered on his face, the blond only wishes for Bucky to be beside him to watch the city glittering with sparks of light. Just as the cheers of _'happy new year'_ drown out the sound of the music, the first pink firework spreads across the sky like an exotic blossoming flower. As more colours seemingly dash and explode around the stars, reflecting in the blond's orbs before fizzing and vanishing in the air, he can't help but feel that there is something dreadful approaching.

Even when Steve sneaks back down to his demon, no amount of walking shakes the peculiar feeling. Jostling through a sea of boisterous cadets, the blond's disappearance goes mostly unnoticed. Tony watches the shorter man enter the dim stairwell to the dorm floors, but he does not attempt to go after him.

As Steve eventually reaches the hallway, the _click_ of a door-latch takes him by surprise. The blond quickly looks up to find Bucky standing in the doorway to the cadet's room; leaning against it with folded arms. The demon waits for him to get closer with an expression Steve can't decipher- but it certainly isn't anger. It is more akin to relief, like when someone dear to you finally makes it home safely.

“I told you I wouldn't be long,” Steve teases the demon, pressing his palms to his clothed chest as he leaves a kiss upon Bucky's lips.

The demon merely grunts in a half-hearted reply when the blond slides past him, allowing the dark class to close the door behind them. Kicking off his loosely-tied boots with a yawn, Steve realises the room is much warmer than usual- as if the breeze of summer has wandered in and melted the stale, cold air. It doesn't take the cadet's intellect to know it is because of his demon.

The blond shrugs out of his jumper, folding it neatly over the desk chair just as the demon's fingers find his hips to pull up the fabric of his shirt. Steve basks in the heat of Bucky's hands embracing his skin as the demon hauls the material over his head and onto the floor without a care. Although the blond should say _'I can undress myself'_ there is something rather innocent about the demon's intentions, and honestly, Steve doesn't mind that at all.

Bucky hums as if in deep thought, his hand briefly fiddling with the cadet's belt, before gently griping the hem of Steve's jeans. But the demon's movements go no further as he seeks the blond's blue orbs that never fail to remind him of frozen water from a glacier. A vibrant hue that beckons and calls the demon, and ultimately captures him with its pure beauty.

But when the blond says nothing, Bucky haltingly slithers the fabric over the curve of his ass, down his smooth thighs, and all the way to those delicate ankles which gently lift one after the other to allow those pale legs to be free of the clothing.

As Bucky makes his way back up the younger man's slender form, he peppers a line of faint kisses along his skin; taking in the sweet, intoxicating scent. Especially between the blond's thighs as his mouth skims past the blond's underwear, his lips barely touching the outline of Steve's cock. But that isn't to say that electricity fails to course through the blond's spine at the implication of the demon's actions.

A blissful sigh escapes the blond as the demon presses one last kiss to the side of his throat in a gesture of tender _marking._ Steve wonders if Bucky actually does it with conscience, or if the demon's instinct to touch and leave his imprint on the human overtakes any other thought. Although the demon has been weary of leaving any visible blemishes on the younger man– but not by his own choice.

Steve pulls back from the demon's touch with a shy smile, nibbling at his lower lip as he heads towards the ensuite, looking over his shoulder just enough to find Bucky watching him with darkened eyes. Splashing cool liquid onto his heated cheeks, the cadet fails to perceive the demon's presence until that metallic hand rests at the bone of his hip. Stealing a glance, he sees that the demon is stripped of his own uniform, leaving only black underwear.

They both crave that skinship from the other. Whether sexual or chaste. And knowing that their touches never have to lead further than the innocent press of bare skin connecting, leaves something rather warm in the blond's chest.

But it also means that they have crossed the line.

The boundary of what is deemed appropriate between a human and their demon. The relationship between such beings (if there was to be one) should be entirely _physical._ Any sort of sexual interaction, should be just that: sex. Nothing more than that, with emotions utterly absent. It should never, under any circumstances, turn into something emotional.

But Steve and Bucky's relationship... their bond has never been purely physical. That line had been crossed a long time ago, and now, there is no going back. Then again, neither human or demon wish to step back behind that forbidden line.

Steve watches the demon's reflection in the mirror as he brushes his teeth, wondering what the demon is thinking as he leans closer to breathe in the scent that wafts from those silky strands. Even as the pair make their way back to the poor excuse of a bed, Bucky's hand never strays from the small of the cadet's back, as if guiding him without saying so much as a single word.

Crawling into the bed, Bucky opens up his arms and the blond immediately gravitates into his embrace. With the demon's back against the mattress, the younger man settles at Bucky's side, resting his head and right arm on that muscular, warm chest as his leg curves over the demon's.

“Happy new year, Bucky,” Steve murmurs, sleep already tugging at his consciousness as his eyelids drift shut with their heavy weight.

“Goodnight, my little warrior,” Bucky quietly replies, despite being absorbed in the cadet's deepening breaths.

But even protected in his demons arms, Steve still feels the same sensation that had crept into him upon the rooftop.

That feeling...

Like when one forgets something, but can't remember what it is that has been forgotten. Or when one knows that someone is following them, and yet one cannot find where that stare originates.

It is an uncomfortable sensation, and Steve is sure that Bucky feels it too.

       

A little over a month later, as the fallen snow becomes less harsh upon Steve's lungs, the cadet's curiosity finally gets the better of him. It is something that has gnawed at his insides for a while, and now the blond can't do anything but ask. For the worse that could happen would be Bucky refusing his wish, but for some reason, Steve doesn't think the demon will deny him the knowledge that he yearns for.

“I want you to teach me the Forbidden Language.”

“You want to learn the language of demons?” Bucky turns to meet the blond's stare that is just as stubborn and full of determination as always. Steve turns off the light to the ensuite, tip-toeing in his sleepwear to greet the demon on the bed. The amulet that Bucky had given the blond is secured safely in the binding of that red journal: there is no true need to wear it when the demon wavers so close to the younger man.

“Yes, I know a little already... but not properly.” Steve only knows a few words from what the demon has said to him; and there is so much more to discover. It is almost as if every word that the blond learns, brings him that little bit closer to the demon's world, and the demon himself. “I want to learn more... please.”

Bucky seems deep in thought for a moment: his brows furrowed and his lips a thin line in contemplation. Or perhaps, he is merely amused with leaving the cadet wondering what his answer will be. The demon likes to tease the blond: to watch the fluttering of heat spread across his cheeks, and the glimmer of that spark of hope that never truly fades in the blue of his eyes.

“I will teach you,” Bucky agrees, holding out his arm on the mattress to allow the blond to become wrapped against the demon's side. “But you cannot take notes, you will just have to memorise it.”

“I can't take notes?” Steve instinctively always writes up new information, whether as an online document, or scribbles in his father's journal. Black, curled ink crowds the cadet's work in an almost obsessive manner, but in fact, it is the manifestation of Steve's thirst for knowledge.

The blond has always strived to be the best, for that will allow him to become the greatest soldier he can be. Being a solider grants Steve the power to protect others, even if that means he cares less about protecting himself. But that should not be a concern, as there is a creature of darkness that is determined to destroy anything and anyone that even dares to attempt to hurt Steve.

“Humans are not supposed to know of our language.”

“And yet you are willing to teach me?” Now that, the cadet can't quite understand.

Bucky doesn't answer that, but merely smiles in response and Steve instantly feels warmth pool throughout his entire body at the clear fondness the demon's smile radiates. Holding up his metallic arm in the air, the demon traces shapes in the air above them. Strands of black mist follow Bucky's finger and pause above the bonded pair to reveal the outline of a symbol.

Consisting of a few overlapping semi-circles with a line bent at right angles on top, the symbol itself is rather simple compared to those that Steve has seen on the sides of the academy's vehicles.

“This is the symbol for _demon.”_ The black symbol stays floating in the air above them even as Bucky's hand drops back down to the mattress. The blond observes the symbol carefully, taking in its form as he burns the image into his memory.

“How do I say it in your language?” The cadet questions the demon, even if his eyes are mesmerised by the symbol- the shape of which is captured in the brightness of blue orbs. The darkness that his demon creates... Steve is oddly attracted to it. Like the ocean's waves upon a golden beach, or a dense forest with light shining through and bouncing off of every green surface... it is beautiful, and nothing but entrancing.

“ _Keoxade Xlaak.”_

“ _Kay-_ ox-aid what?”

“Sl- _are-_ k.” Bucky puts a little more emphasis on the middle, the side of his face resting against the pillow so that he can watch the blond.

“So, Keoxade Xlaak?” Steve attempts again, unsure of himself, but trying to _impress_ the demon. The blond is a quick learner, and with Bucky's patience, there isn't really a limit to what Steve can pry from his demon's lips. In time, the cadet will know all of his demon's secrets. He will know things about demons that no human has ever had the chance of knowing themselves. Although one may see that as something to be thrilled about, it also paves the path of a risky road ahead.

“Yes. Be more firm with pronouncing the beginning though,” the demon encourages, waving his hand once in the air to force the shadows to disperse and dissolve into tiny fragments. Moving his fingers carefully, the tiny black swirls left behind form a new symbol.

Like that, the bonded pair spend their nights looking at the symbols that the demon creates. Or rather, Steve becomes captivated by the symbols, as Bucky becomes captivated by the blond. Although the younger man tends to feel Bucky's heated gaze upon his skin; warming his flesh as if the sun's rays are being absorbed down to his very core... sometimes the quick glances or longing gazes remain undetected by the blond.

Steve is delving into a world no human has ever been able to journey to. A world that no human _should even dare_ try to enter. But with the dark class as his guard, the blond will put himself at risk to learn everything that is impossible for any other human to grasp. Bucky's past and the language of demons, the extent of demonic powers and the realm of demons itself: Steve will learn it all.

But, with the capabilities of their bond, comes a grave danger.

The uniqueness of their bond... the emotions that flow between them... no one will ever be able to understand it.

       

Week forty at the academy begins with a lecture lead by Erskine. The cadets prefer the doctor over Kruger, as do every other soldier who have ever had to pass their classes. Now, although the cadets certainly find Erskine much more pleasant and inviting, Steve likes his lectures for a different reason.

Demon biology, what is fact... _is fact._ There are no uncertainties and little room for errors. But in Kruger's long sessions of loud, disinterested speeches, his words are nothing but theories. Some of the theories Kruger believes to be true, Steve knows that they are not. The blond's knowledge of the Demon War only aids in illustrating that.

They first years only have a few months left until they can finally move on to becoming more knowledgeable second years. Steve is excited for that, as are they all. Fed up with being the _rookies,_ they are desperate to begin to push themselves and their demons to the very limit of their abilities. There is the hope of witnessing an actual field mission, and of course, the slim chance of going back home to see their families. Fury may be strict, but he is not unreasonable.

“A demon's healing capabilities wholly depend upon their level. Second to that, their class,” Erskine explains as images of demons in different forms appear on the screen in the small lecture room. “However, _scarring_ is a different matter. Thorough tests and analysis have shown that a demon's wounds will scar, if the damage was caused by a demon at a higher level than them. If the damage to a demon, occurred through a demon of a lower level than them, the wounds heal completely with no indication that there was any damage at all.”

“And what of damage caused by humans?” Bruce calls out.

“Human weaponry has always had very little effect on demons. Only since scientists discovered how to bond a human and demon together, have humans actually been able to destroy demons.

“Before that, we had huge weaponry embedded with demonic symbols that allowed us to kill demons. But those weapons were slow and difficult to handle, hence the need for lighter, close combat weaponry. The human military has bullets and knives encrusted with these symbols, but they are far less effective than the weapons yourselves are able to manifest.”

Steve is only really half-listening to Erskine, his mind dwelling on the doctor's explanation of demon scarring. Not only does the blond assume that _thorough tests and analysis_ means extensive torture and suffering, but Steve can only conclude that the scars that Bucky has... they must be from something far more deadly than the dark class. The curves around the metallic arm upon his shoulder, and the faint lines scratched against his ribs and the sharp indents or bumps scattered like rarities across the demon's form... another demon must have caused them.

There are demons more powerful than Bucky (that is a fact no one can deny) and although very high-level demons are hard to come by, the dark class has most definitely met one. Perhaps even more than one -there may be many or few in the Netherworld. Therefore the cadet's mind wonders in deep-thought like a child who cannot yet control his thinking; becoming distracted with new information and ignoring the ongoing world around them.

“Can I ask you something?” Steve asks, craning his neck to look at the demon as they lay side by side on the bed with Bucky's arm resting underneath the blond.

“You know you can.” The demon lets his hand slide over the dark symbol above them, causing the shadows to disperse like a reflection upon disturbed water.

“Its about your scars...” It isn't unusual for demons to have scars. In reality, it is more strange for a demon to not have any scars at all.

“Not my arm this time?” Bucky jokes, before being met with a disapproving look. The demon lets out a sigh as he looks up at the ceiling and the moss that still stains it. “What do you want to know?”

“I assume that they are from the war?” It's a guess, really, but there can't possibly be any other explanation. At least that is what Steve's logic concludes.

Bucky doesn't seem the kind of creature to actively seek out a fight, especially with a demon more powerful than himself. Therefore, it is more likely that Bucky's scars came from the war- where his choice of of enemies and battles would have surely dwindled.

“Some.”

“You got them all from fighting demons, though?” There are certainly no humans capable of harming the dark class, Steve is sure of that.

“Most of them are from a single demon,” Bucky confesses, so quietly that Steve almost doesn't hear his soft, reluctant words. It is the first time that the demon has told the cadet something... and sounded as if... his mind is in torment. There is a coldness to his tone, void of all emotions to conceal the wounds that rip open again and again despite the demon's efforts to repair them.

“Another dark class?”

“No,” the demon exhales.

He knows the blond is watching and searching his face for any hint of _something._ But Bucky remains detached and distant, giving nothing away like a predator immune to the terrors of their past- even if that isn't true for the demon. The scent of the blond that gently wafts over the demon in sweet waves is nothing but a comfort, soothing the demon like how a lullaby would relax a terrified child who had just woken up from a nightmare. A nightmare so dark, that even when basked in light, its shadows still linger.

“What class of demon were they, then?” Steve cautiously asks, pressing closer to his demon's side.

“I don't know what you call them in your language, but in the Forbidden Language, we call them _Kyosw.”_ Bucky gradually meets the blond's gaze, and vibrant blue orbs and silver-flecked eyes finally meet. For a split second, Steve is sure he sees _pain_ in the depths of the demon's irises.

“Kai-oh-soow? What does that mean?” Whatever kind of demon created the scars upon the dark class, the younger man knows it must be a terribly fearsome creature. But one Bucky did not meet during the war; albeit whether the scars were caused before or after the war is an entirely different matter that Steve isn't actually sure he wants to know the answer to.

But the cadet can't stop himself from worrying over the _reasons_ for Bucky's scars, even if they should not matter: the demon is very much alive and cradling the blond in his arms.

“It means _Demon of Death,”_ the dark class bluntly reveals.

Steve says nothing for a long while as he processes the demon's words and exactly what they mean.

“Oh my gods... A death class gave you these scars?” Steve gasps, eyes wide as the palm of his hand rests upon his demon's chest.

A death class demon... the most feared, the most powerful, and the most rarest class of demon- and extremely little is known about them. There are very few recorded sightings of death classes, but in each case, all it had taken was for one demon to murder _thousands_ of innocent human lives.

Demonologists can only assume that there are more of these deadly beings in the Netherworld. Not as numerous as fire classes, but still, their presence is surely there. Soldiers live in fear of the day that another death class enters the human realm, for no one has ever been able to defeat one.

_Had Bucky sought out the more powerful demon?_

_Or had Bucky tried to escape its clutches when trespassing on its territory?_

_Or perhaps there is something far more complex and horrifying behind the marks that the death class had scarred into Bucky' skin._

These hazy questions run through the cadet's mind like a flock of birds, and the blond knows that he would be pushing the demon too far if he were to ask them all. But one by one, he will ask, and the demon will answer.

Bucky's metallic hand reaches to press against the blond's knuckles and to entwine their fingers together.

It is a gesture of acceptance... and trust.

Bucky's reply is so honest, so full of affection for the man beside him, and yet dripping with hints of _grief_ that -in that quiet moment- the demon has never seemed more human.

“Yes, some wounds never heal completely.”


	24. Your Shadows Grow More Powerful With Each Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Twenty-three:  
> **Bucky gave Steve his pendant (that he came through the gateway with), that can conceal auras.  
> **The cadets celebrated New Years.  
> **Steve asked Bucky to begin teaching him the Forbidden Language.  
> **A lecture on demon biology stated that a demon's wounds can heal completely, if the damage was done by a demon of a lower level.  
> **Bucky confessed that his scars were caused mainly by a death class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter twenty-four! Ahh!  
> It has been exactly one year since I posted chapter one of The Demon Bond. I just want to thank you all SO SO MUCH for your support, for this story is only in this position because of you lovely readers.
> 
> Both new and old readers, I appreciate every single one of you. Your lovely comments have fuelled me in continuing to write and post this story. Every comment, kudo, subscription and bookmark makes me smile and I feel so happy that I decided to share this story with you all!
> 
> I also want to specifically thank a couple of readers who have been commenting on the story since the very beginning, I wont write your usernames in case that's embarrassing and you don't want me to haha But you know who you are and I cannot express how grateful I am. ♡♡♡ 
> 
> I can't believe this story is still continuing after a year (I swear it won't take that long to finish haha) so thank you all for being patient with me and never once *demanding* an update- I really do appreciate that, and it makes me happy when you lovely people comment that you are excited for updates! Especially as I get excited writing them haha
> 
> So, thank you. And lets start off this second year of The Demon Bond, with the cadets (coincidentally) graduating into their second year at the academy! I had a little bit of difficulty writing this chapter, more specifically near the end, so I really hope that you enjoy reading. :)

Steve yelps, ducking out of the way as dusty brown sand is spat out of the old target. The black shield is embedded into the dark material of the target, ripping it open with the sheer force that the cadet had thrown it. Not that the blond is particularly strong, but the shield that he manifests just seems to glide in the air in a way that its impact force increases considerably.

Biting his lower lip, the blond watches as a dark mist encircles the shield, before spreading and vanishing in the air along with the weapon. The material that envelops the sand to create the target is supposed to be rather durable and resistant, and yet the shield had sliced into it as if it had been a thin piece of string.

They are a week into their second year at the academy, with only a couple days until the cadet's enter the scorching heat of July. While a few years ago, the cadets would have taken their exams and then prepared themselves for a few months of relaxation before starting a new academic year... that is not the case while they are at the academy.

So far, the blond has already destroyed three targets during their manifestation sessions. Although that means that Fury has to keep replacing them, it more importantly means that Steve's manifested weapon is not only strong, but that the cadet himself has a damn good aim.

Steve supposes that it's one of the advantages of having such a high level demon. A level fifty-five demon (even if it really is all based on computer estimates) is a terribly high level for a first year to have bonded with, and he isn't yet sure whether Bucky's level has increased. The blond can't stop himself from thinking that perhaps the demon is far more powerful than the computer systems, or even himself, can predict.

Not only that, but the blond is sure that the black mist guides him, pulling him in the right direction and gently influencing his movements. As if the shadows dance around the muscles in his arms, coercing his next actions, and ultimately aiding him in becoming the best amongst the second years.

So much has happened in their first year at the academy, and yet... there is still a long road ahead. Paved with obstacles, both seen and unseen, and events none of the cadets expect. But it isn't something that the _Avengers_ can't handle. Especially with the dark class on their side. Because surely Bucky wouldn't dare be on any side that isn't with the blond? Steve desperately hopes that is the case.

Patiently waiting for a new target to be put in place, Steve glances at Bucky a few feet behind him. The demon's expression is blank, but the younger man can depict the smile in his eyes, and his oh-so-clear enjoyment in the cadet breaking academy property. The sound of the other future soldiers taking aim at their own targets is quickly becoming familiar- and for good reason, this year, they will be able to go on their first field mission.

As soon as the new target is put in place, all it takes is a couple more hits before it looks as damaged as the previous one. Steve cringes, glimpsing at the shake of Fury's head as the old soldier comes over to him, his demon following suit. But, Fury's demon is in his true human form. The demon is tall and muscular, with the slightest dusting of brown skin as if from a tan to compliment his dark hair. Sharp cheekbones and the beginning of stubble, the demon is a little intimidating.

“I think that's enough manifestation training for you today, cadet.” Fury chuckles, otherwise lost for words.

“Yes, sir...” Steve blushes, albeit he can't help but feel a little satisfied, and even _proud_ as Fury dismisses him.

As the pair walk out, the blond shrugs with a devilish smile when Sam raises his brows in an expression of surprise, but also admiration. Bucky's level and the fact that their compatibility is so high, means that it isn't exactly a surprise that the shield is capable of a lot more damage than any other second year's weapon.

However, Bucky has been watching closely, and it doesn't take anyone of intelligence to work out that the _Avengers_ are much better than the other group of second years. Functioning well not only as a team, but as a whole, they seemingly have a lot more respect for their bonded demons. Being almost constantly around their demons has forced each of them to build up a tolerance, and not that any of them would admit it to each other, but they no longer despise or look down on their demons.

But, then again, that is not to say that every team member of the _Avengers_ wishes to befriend or spend every waking moment with their demon. Such creatures are not viewed as having feelings, but as more animalistic, simple beings; and many of the cadets held, and still hold that opinion. But, with more time, undoubtedly comes more change. However, the catalyst for change, is always a risk taken by someone whose desire compels them.

Steve knows that demons are capable of so much more in-depth thinking, and that their emotions can evolve to become as complicated as those of humans. Bucky is proof of that, even if the dark class seems to lack empathy or true remorse. But the cadet thinks that is more to do with Bucky's beliefs and logical thinking, rather than the demon actually being unable to feel those emotions. However, it would be rather irrational and dangerous if the cadet were to say those things out loud. For the moment, the blond needs to be selfish, and keep the demon's secrets to himself.

“What are the levels you humans refer to?” Bucky suddenly questions the blond, mindful of making certain that there is no one around to hear them.

“You mean the demon levels?” The blond squints in the light of the sun as he looks up at the demon. Steve has definitely missed the burning warmth of summer, and now its presence is a relief to his aching lungs.

“Yes.”

“Its basically a scale of how powerful a demon is. It isn't extremely accurate, as power is hard to measure... but computer programmes analyse a demon and places them into a bracket, and then decides where in that bracket they belong. If you try hard enough, you can also guess a demon's level by the damage they cause,” Steve explains as best as he can.

It is a complicated process, and takes even more effort to analyse the different components without a computer to do so for you- as Steve found out when Erskine had made them try to prove their demon's levels as being those that the computers had first predicted.

“And my level is fifty five? Out of what?”

“A hundred.”

“And I am only half of that?” Bucky scoffs in offence.

“Well, your level should have increased by now but-” The blond attempts to appeal to the demon, but Bucky just turns to him with a carefree smirk; his voice full of nothing but adoration.

“ _Steve.”_

“Hm?” The cadet glances at the demon from the corner of his eye.

“You don't need to try to please me.” Bucky smiles softly before that smirk takes over, even if the gentleness never fades. “I know exactly how powerful I am.”

“And yet you mock the level system.” _And yet you are more powerful than anyone realises._

“I do find your technology... interesting.”

“You don't think its accurate.” It isn't a question.

“Neither do you,” Bucky hums.

“I don't think we know of your true potential,” Steve admits firmly, sure of himself.

Although he should trust their demon-tech to make accurate predications, the sensation that something is just _off..._ that something isn't quite _right..._ prods at Steve's mind. But the cadet isn't sure what exactly that is, or even why that may be. Still, he mustn't make it seem as if he thinks the computers have underestimated Bucky's level, for there is no telling what _tests_ may be done to fix that.

“Shouldn't it be _our_ potential?” Bucky teases, although there is a seriousness to it that the cadet has learned to perceive. Steve is able to depict when the demon is merely joking, and when he is being far more honest with his gentle teasing.

Just as Steve knows that their potential is beyond anything that anyone is capable of, Bucky firmly believes that too. Their thoughts of battle are the same; like the roots of two trees tightly entwining to become one, when it comes to the other, their emotions are very much the same as well.

“I... Yeah, I guess so.” Steve blushes, averting his gaze to hide the clear happiness in his eyes. The demon can still feel it though- warm and vibrating softly through their bond.

The pair stay quiet a little longer as they pass a group of soldiers jogging alongside the pathway, their demons in line next to them. While beads of sweat run down the soldiers' backs and necks, their demons remain as composed and full of energy as always. At least... the energy is physical, but the light in their eyes are not as bright as they once would have been.

“Bucky,” the younger man says softly as they near the dorms. “Do you miss being free?”

“Free?” The demon repeats, slightly confused.

“I mean your freedom... Do you miss being in the Netherworld?”

“Why would you ask that?” Bucky frowns, as if a mere mention of the demon realm brings a foul taste to his mouth.

“We've been bonded for a year... You can't go back. You can't leave this place, at least not without me,” Steve mutters, the faint sensation of guilt at the very back of his mind.

Before the blond can open the door to the dorms, Bucky holds it open for the cadet instead- a subtle effort to grab his attention.

“I wouldn't want to leave without you anyway,” Bucky confesses, his tone melting with affection for the younger man. The blond looks up to meet his gaze.

“So you're fine not being free?”

“I do not feel that I am without my freedom here... But if you say this is what it is to have no freedom at all, then I don't see any reason to want that freedom back.” His words are nothing but true, and even the blond can sense the pure honesty in them.

Steve can't possibly blush any more at what Bucky's words imply. The demon does not feel caged, even after all this time; still wishing to drown himself in the blond's presence. Bucky is utterly addicted to the blond's intoxicating scent, his sweet lips, the smoothness of his skin, and the lullaby of his voice, even when laced with stubbornness and curiosity.

Since the very moment they bonded, not once has the dark class felt regret for becoming bound to Steve. And not once, has he thought about going back to the Netherworld. He feels more free with the cadet nuzzling against him, than he ever felt in the demon realm.

Unable to think of anything to say, the blond merely allows his fingers to interlace with the demon's as they instinctively stroll to Steve's room. Being in their second year at the academy, their rooms have moved to the floor above. Except from the fact that they are a storey higher and that there is clearly more moss on the walls, there isn't any difference in the design of the rooms.

However, the other group have been integrated into the dorms with them. So, while the _Avengers_ are in their individual rooms on one side of the hallway, the team known as _Hydra_ are on the other. Though they are still very much separated by having different schedules: the only time the two teams intermix is during meals and their manifestation classes.

When the door closes behind them, their fingers slowly drift apart. But even then, their skin remains connected as the demon wraps his arms around the blonds waist, pulling him closer to press the gentlest of kisses upon those plump lips. Barely a second later, Steve's hands trail up the demon's chest to those broad shoulders, leaning up onto the very tips of his toes to allow their kiss to deepen.

Little low moans and high pitched gasps escape from the younger man as their familiar synchrony becomes more forceful; the gentleness replaced by desperate nips and the eager swipes of tongues. Steve's hand cups the back of Bucky neck, bringing the demon impossibly closer, or rather, the movement is more because of the fact that he never wants to let him go.

The demon hums in pleasure, tasting the blond's sweetness and the faintest hint of mint on each of his breathy moans. Nothing but their instinct guides them, their eyes closed as each being is utterly overwhelmed by their scents permeating the air around them. The intoxicating smell of fierce lightning during a storm, fusing with a delicate, luscious warmth that would surely taste akin to honey on the tip of one's tongue if breathed in.

Their bond vibrates in long, drawn out waves- almost as if an invisible heart is throbbing between them, echoing each other's pleasure and raw desires. Pulsing almost as heavily as their auras which do nothing but swirl into a haze of mist dominated by dark, unseen shadows. Only the slightest of amber flecks glow through it as the blond becomes completely consumed by the demon's touch.

Bucky's fingers briefly glide up the younger man's spine, only to trace along those sharp hipbones, and over the curve of his ass. Everywhere the demon's palms caress his body, even through the fabric of his clothes, Steve can still feel his skin becoming heated with the hot sparks that ignite under his skin. Like a flame that only burns brighter, nothing can ever attempt to extinguish it. What Steve feels for Bucky... nothing can ever extinguish those emotions.

“ _Bucky,”_ Steve gasps into the demon's mouth, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as the demon daringly presses his hands more firmly against the blond's ass. Bucky smirks at the blond's reaction, his hands sliding just that little bit lower to grasp the back of the younger man's thighs. The cadet doesn't have to be told to hold on, his arms instinctively tightening around Bucky's shoulders as he lifts the smaller man up against him, those slender legs catching and wrapping around the demon's hips.

Steve practically weighs nothing in Bucky's arms, like a feather being held by an enormous beast, and the demon easily carries him to the bed. Bucky gently allows the blond's back to dip into the mattress, leaning over him as neither let go of the other. The demon's hips dig into the blond's upper thighs -despite the layers of fabric between them- whose legs are still firmly entwined around Bucky's waist. But after a single moment, the demon breaks their kiss with deep, teasing words.

“Now, I have a question for you.”

“Hmm, you have me intrigued,” Steve says breathlessly as he gazes up into Bucky's eyes, his own glimmering with the beginnings of a burning heat.

“What is a birth day?”

Steve blinks twice, the little cogs and gears in his head slowly turning as he process the question that has most certainly caught him off guard.

“What are you on about?”

“I heard your _friend_ talking about your _birth day_... What is it?” Bucky asks again, wholly serious.

“I... You don't know what a birthday is?” Steve's brows raise in surprise, with just a faint hint of disbelief. The demon merely looks blankly at the blond, expectantly awaiting an answer. “Its like...well, it's the date that you are born on, and you celebrate it each year.”

“You celebrate being a year older?” The demon certainly doesn't understand that.

“When you say it like that... it sounds pathetic,” the blond cringes, although he is slightly amused with the demon's frown.

“It is strange, but not _pathetic.”_ Bucky pauses, taking in the appearance of those pinkened cheeks and the slightly dishevelled hair from manifesting. “Human traditions... They are not really something that I understand.”

“That's what I'm here for, right? You teach me about your world, I teach you about mine.” Steve grins, bright and gleeful, those white teeth peeking from behind wet lips and the demon... _oh_... the demon is _so_ _entranced._

“So, your birthday is soon? And you will celebrate it?”

“It's really just my ma who celebrates it, you know...as I was sick when I was younger. Personally, it isn't a big thing to me,” Steve admits quietly, his voice getting softer with each word. Bucky watches the younger man's expression, carefully, as how one might inspect a gemstone for impurities. But even if the crystal is not perfect, there is still a beauty to it. Bucky sees the faintest touch of a sorrow-like pain in the cadet's features, and presses his lips to Steve's forehead in an innocent kiss. Steve's eyes instinctively close as the demon's warmth oozes into him, before opening them once again to meet Bucky's gaze. “You heard Sam talking about my birthday though?”

“Mm, he mentioned it when he was discussing Independence day -I think that's what it was- with that woman,” the demon informs him.

“Wanda? Well he probably mentioned my birthday because it's on the same date,” Steve explains, his fingers fiddling with the dark strands of hair at the nape of the demon's neck.

“As independence day?”

“Yeah.”

“What is that?”

“Well, its not that interesting, really. But-” Steve is cut off by the demon's lips pressing greedily against his own.

“I don't need to know if you're not interested,” Bucky murmurs, his lips ghosting the blonds with every pronounced word.

“You asked!” The younger man giggles, his neck arching back on the pillow with his laughter.

“Mmm, I've changed my mind. I much rather do this...” Bucky licks once at the blond's throat, giving a tender nip to the skin between his teeth before leaning to whisper into the blond's ear, “...and hear you _moan_ my name instead.”

“Oh my gods, Bucky!” Steve squeals, his high-pitched giggles almost a match to the demon's deep chuckles in his ear, each warm breath caressing pale skin.

The demon merely presses tender kisses to the blond's throat, each gentle movement of lips over that pulsating skin has the cadet losing focus. Nothing but the sensation of Bucky's body slowly grinding against his own floods his mind, overriding any lasting thoughts based on logics or anxiety. Steve lets out a low gasp as Bucky places one final kiss to the pink skin of his throat, forceful, as if the demon craves nothing more than to leave his mark on the younger man.

Steve feels so very vulnerable in the demon's arms as Bucky tugs at the fabric of their shirts, pulling them over their heads one after the other. The dark class leans up, slipping off the cadet's boots to then allow himself to grip the hem of his trousers. Steve's hips automatically jolt up without the demon having to say a word as the rough fabric is dragged over his smooth skin, becoming a mess with the other items on the floor. As Bucky leans back over the blond, Steve pulls the demon closer, sliding his tongue over the demon's lips without so much as a hint of hesitance. For although he feels vulnerable, he also feels _safe._

Without breaking their kiss, the demon rids of his own boots and trousers, throwing them to the side to mix with the cadet's. The blond grinds up against the demon's hips, buzzing with snips of sparks and warmth pooling in all the right places that come from the delightful friction of their underwear. Steve cannot suppress the loud moan that escapes him as Bucky rolls his hips forward, meeting every one of the younger man's shaky movements.

“Shh,” Bucky soothes against the blond's lips, smiling into those blue eyes that remain heavy in pleasure. But then the demon's voice becomes deeper, almost like a growl as he whispers seductive words. “Although, you know... you can be as loud as you want right now.”

Steve can do nothing but let out a louder moan that he is unable to hold back, echoing up his chest and into the demon's ear like a promise. A forceful groan vibrates from the demon at the blond's gentle cries; that siren voice rough and panting as Bucky eradicates the space between them with a firm grinding of his hips. Jolting ever so slightly with each thrust, the cadet's nails find and dig into the demon's back, carving little scratches upon that warm skin, healing almost as quickly as they are made. With their bond pulsating between them, and their auras entwining in utter desperation... Steve is filled with the sensation of being overwhelmed.

There is something _different._ Just ever so slightly. But the blond can still feel it. And it feels _good._ As if the younger man is becoming lost in euphoria itself... lost in the passion that they both share. The passion that they both have for each other. Steve doesn't even realise it when Bucky slips his briefs from his hips, sliding them past his legs to reveal flushed skin. The cadet can only hum as he waits just a moment for the demon to rid himself of his own boxers. But as soon as they are both bare and filled with lustful yearning, Bucky places a single, innocent kiss to the blond's chest. Just above that pounding heart, the gesture coerced by nothing but pure intentions.

“ _Ah,”_ Steve gasps, unable to do anything but let out little moans that reflect the demon's name as Bucky continues that same receptive grinding motion. Legs wrapping around the demon's waist, the blond never wants to give up the feeling of utter bliss that washes through him.

It is not just the aching of his groin, nor the electric feeling of their cocks rubbing together... just the closeness. The feel of their skin connecting so intimately with no barriers to come between them. It is something rather raw and uncontrolled, and it allows those unsaid emotions to be expressed in their burning ecstasy.

“ _Bucky.”_

“Mmm, yeah?” The demon whispers, wrapping one hand around their leaking cocks as his metallic hand rests at the blond's slim waist. Each jerk has the human gasping that little bit more, unable to pronounce anything but his demon's name. And oh how good that sounds to the dark class.

“ _Bucky.”_

All that the cadet can perceive is the dark form looming over him, basking him in his shadow as their conjoined soft grunts and quivering moans fill the air around them. It isn't long until the blond's hand sneaks between them, awkwardly, but encouraged by his own confidence, and the instinct that has taken control. Bucky allows the blond to take over the slow drag of a hand around their pinkened cocks- almost as red as the heated skin of Steve's cheeks. There is nothing eloquent or controlled about the cadet's movement as the demon gently pushes against those slender fingers. But still, there is a wonderful, burning energy that flourishes throughout both of their bodies.

Steve's legs fall from the demon's waist, his thighs open and barely resting on Bucky's hips as the balls of his feet plant firmly on either side of the demon's calves upon the mattress. The blond's back arches just enough to provide that tiny bit more fiction that they both crave. Leaning his upper body back up, the demon watches Steve's blushing form beneath him, and although Bucky stops the rolling of his own hips, the blond still keeps to the unsteady pace.

Slowly, Bucky trails two pre-come slicked fingers over the cadet's thighs, tracing towards the inside where the skin is most akin to silk. To then chase where the cadet's hipbone and thigh meet, only to tenderly move lower, past the blond's flushed cock... and even lower until he reaches-

“Stop, stop. Stop.” The cadet can't quite get his breathless words out fast enough, instantly sitting up as his thighs come together. Bucky holds up hands, palms facing the blond like how one would try to soothe a frightened animal. “Fuck... I'm sorry, I just-”

“Its okay, you don't need to say anything.”

Although the blond wants to, he isn't quite ready to take that next step. Hasn't had the chance to figure out the details in his mind nor comprehend exactly what sex with Bucky would _mean._ That, and... Steve is incredibly _embarrassed._ Unsure of himself and his body, regardless of his demon's sweet, complimenting words. Sex is something... foreign, and albeit the cadet isn't naïve as to what it involves... that doesn't mean that he can't be a little apprehensive about it. Even if his demon is soothing and ever so gentle with his touches.

“Ah, I'm so embarrassed right now,” the blond groans, running a head through his hair to try and hide his flushed cheeks.

“You don't need to be. Although, you only need to say stop once, and I will.”

Steve feels like the demon is teasing him, until he meets his gaze and knows that Bucky's words are nothing but sincere. Letting out a shaky exhale, the blond's racing pulse slowly regains its natural rhythm.

“I'm sorry, I've totally just killed the mood.”

“Come here,” Bucky coos, leaning in to gently press their lips together in the shortest of kisses, only to pepper more against those pink lips until the blond melts with the demon's affection. Steve allows himself to be comforted by the demon, eventually meeting Bucky's kisses with more fervour, and after a moment, allows himself to be pulled into the demon's lap.

The demon's fingers slowly caress the blond's sides, rubbing his palms against that beautifully smooth, pale skin. Steve can feel the silkiness of his waist become warmer with the demon's touch, that electrifying heat spreading as Bucky's non-metallic hand traces over the cadet's abdomen. When the blond presses himself against the demon, their chests and hips awkwardly aligning, Bucky knows that Steve's mind is becoming numb as he melts under the demon's gentle attention.

Humming into the demon's neck, lips ghosting the sleek collar wrapped around it, Steve remains unflinching as that firm hand trails a little lower. Bucky cautiously takes their cocks into the palm of his hand, setting a steady rhythm that quickly becomes more desperate with each of the blond's wavering moans against the demon's throat. The demon can feel Steve's aching body begin to tense, breath hitching on every other inhale, finger nails catching the bare skin of Bucky's shoulders.

The dark class cannot stop the deep growl that vibrates in his chest, the reverberation easily echoing through the human, who can do nothing but let out a small moan in response. With Bucky's smooth, tender and yet firm strokes, it isn't long until the younger man comes into Bucky's hand with a shudder, his body shaking in the tight embrace. The demon's name is a harsh whisper ghosting over Bucky's ear as the blond's release trickles over the demon's own pinkened cock.

Wet, plump lips instinctively find Bucky's, filled with passion and a complete desire. That yearning radiates between them through their bond, bouncing off one another like rays of light upon shards of a mirror. Steve is lost in the aftermath of his ecstasy, but that does nothing to dull the fervour of wanting the demon to feel that very same pleasure.

The younger man's heated, whiny breathes encourage the demon, and he eventually releases with a muffled moan, the blond's lips against his own. For a second, Bucky forgets everything from his past as Steve's scent permeates his nose, the feel of that velvety skin under his hands ever so grounding as the demon finally lets his guard down.

After a moment of silence, with nothing but the sound of gentle panting filling the air, the demon slides his hand out from between them. Steve gasps, still sensitive, but still not wanting to leave the demon's embrace. They stay like that for a little while, before Steve giggles and complains with a kiss to the demon's lips that they should really clean themselves up.

Like ivy, the demon is slowing breaking the walls that surround Steve, entwining between individuals bricks as Bucky carefully tugs each obstacle loose. They have been lucky, for no one has discovered the demon gently tearing down the barriers between them. But no matter how long it takes, and despite the risks both of them will have to take, Bucky is determined to rid themselves of every wall- including his own.

So although the demon does not need luck to discard the walls that the cadet had built (for his gentle and tender touches are enough) they have been blessed with not being found out. Their every risky action has been submerged with luck, allowing their relationship to grow day by day without interruptions that would come with others being aware of them.

But neither is aware, of just how soon their luck will run out.

        

The bonded pair wait just outside of the dorms in the cool morning air, waiting for the other _Avengers_ to arrive so that they can go on their usual jogging session. The sun is still low in the sky, casting the academy in an orange glow akin to the blond's aura as it peeks through the buildings.

“Stevie!”

The cadet quickly turns to the call of his name (or rather, nickname) his gaze instantly falling upon an ecstatic looking Sam. But before the blond can even utter a single word, his friend is pulling him into a tight hug, almost lifting him off the ground with his enthusiasm.

“Happy birthday,” Sam cheers as he pulls away from the blond, holding him at arms length by those slender shoulders. Steve can't help but reflect the other cadet's smile, although a little shy with the bombardment of Sam's cheerfulness. “I'm sorry I couldn't get you a present or anything this year,” he says apologetically, his eyes showing that little bit of regret in the depths of those brown irises.

“That's okay, you don't need to worry about that,” Steve assures, noticing Sam's demon trailing behind slowly- almost as if he is wary of his surroundings. As if he is expecting something, or someone, to jump out at him. “Birthdays are not all about presents.”

“Did I just hear correctly? It is your birthday?” A rough voice interjects.

“Ah, yeah...” The blond admits, finding Tony and his demon

“Well, then. Happy birthday, Rogers.”

Steve thanks him as some of the other _Avengers_ join them, their bonded demons obediently following them. As soon as the group is all together, they set off for their morning run after a few more _'happy birthday's_ are said.

Later in the day, when the cadets take a break for something to eat in the canteen before their manifesting session, their jovial attitudes change into something quite somber. There had been another attack near the edge of New York City, and the fourth years informed them that the fifth years had gone out to help deal with the incident.

There is something strange unsettling demons, altering their behaviour, for three low level water class demons have just attacked and killed over one hundred innocent citizens. People had been merely going about their day, before finding themselves drowning while others tried to run for their lives. The demons had been _coordinated,_ trapping people within walls of dense water. So, although each individual demon hadn't been particularly difficult to destroy (due to their low levels) the chaos that the demons had caused all together made the situation demanding and problematic.

After manifesting, the _Avengers_ go back to the dorms to grab their hoodies, the vibrant sun obscured by darkened clouds. Because the blond is already wearing his -mainly to hide the red marks he can't quite get the dark class to stop leaving- he waits just inside the dorm entrance with Bucky by his side.

“Your birthday is today,” the dark class remarks.

“Mhmm.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty one.” When the blond's answer is only met with silence, he peers up at the demon through thick lashes, only to find Bucky watching him with a smile radiating nothing but fondness. “What?”

“Just thinking,” Bucky mocks. The blond rolls his eyes, refusing to meet the demon's silver-flecked stare. But after a silent moment, the demon speaks again. “That human didn't get you anything? Are presents required on these dates as well?”

“Ah, sometimes. Usually you get your friends and family presents on their birthdays as well as Christmas, to show that you care about them and want to celebrate the day with them,” Steve explains to the demon, not at all minding the fact that he has to teach Bucky the things that humans are brought up knowing.

“I don't have anything to give you.”

“You don't have to give me anything, you've already given me that pendant,” the blond tries to convince the demon, who even after a moment of considering his words, remains seemingly unconvinced.

“Then, perhaps, what about a kiss?” Bucky offers with that natural smirk of his.

“Hmm, I suppose I can accept that as a gift,” Steve jests, glancing up at the demon with the slightest smile. Though it is those blue eyes that shine with the blond's contentment - as if they are the reflection of a steady ocean surface, the sun gleaming through it.

But as the blond looks away, the demon's arm quickly snakes around his waist pulling the human closer to align their bodies. Steve lets out a small gasp at the sudden movement as the demon peers down to meet the blonds lips. However, the younger man turns away at the very last second, staring at the demon's metallic arm instead of allowing their lips to embrace.

“We can't, not here,” the cadet scolds softly, despite his body and their bond humming with the dire yearning to go against every one of his logical thoughts.

“Just one kiss... and I'll give you so much more later,” Bucky teases, his words spoken slowly to allow the seduction of his tone to caress the blond's rosy cheeks.

The cadet doesn't have to say so, for the demon to know that he has given into those coaxing words. One hand on that slim wrist, the demon steps closer to the cadet, eyes showing nothing but lust and some sort of innocent passion as his metallic hand cups the back of the blond's neck. The hold pulls the younger man closer, pressing their chests together.

Steve's eyes instantly fall shut as the demon's smooth lips press against his own plump, bitten lips. With gentle encouragement from the demon, their light kiss becomes a careless, indulgent synchrony of wet lips absorbing the other's warmth. So caught up in the intoxication of their mixing scents and their auras that entwine profusely... neither take note of the sound of footsteps getting ever so nearer.

“Hey!” A deep voice shouts from the steps. One that is familiar, and yet one that Steve has never heard to be so forceful. But the next bellowed words are not directed at Steve, but rather the dark class. “Get away from him!”

Steve jolts at the sudden call, immediately trying to untangle himself from the demon, slipping from the grip on his wrist and from the arm around his waist. As soon as Steve's eyes find themselves on Sam's, panic immediately swamps every other emotion, bathing his mind in nothing but distressed thoughts.

It all happens too quickly, Sam rushes towards the pair, his expression showing nothing but anger- brows furrowed, mouth contorted in something akin to _disgust_. Sam's demon lets out a screech of a warning that the human ignores, or perhaps the demon is so terribly frightened that it cannot contain itself.

But before Sam can even dare to pull his friend away from the dark class, Bucky steps in front of the blond, a deep growl echoing from his chest into the air around them as his wings tear out the back of his shirt.

The pure force of those black, deadly wings spreading at the demon's side has Sam being knocked back against the cold ground. A look of utter horror on his face as he looks up at the demon's burning eyes. Those irises have turned as silver as the moon, and his gaze is as sharp as a dozen knives: boring the sensation of a _warning_ into the cadet's flesh.

A warning... to _stay away._

Bucky's growl is nothing but animalistic, and it has the other demon fidgeting in fear as Bucky's overpowering aura seeps into the air around them. Like shadows blending away any other trace of colour. If the humans could see the sheer intensity of Bucky's aura... they would not be able to see anything through it, for the shadows are thick like black ink.

Sam's eyes are wide in shock, unsure what to do as those wings bat once more against the air, sending a chill down the cadet's spine. As if ice had slithered down Sam's back, leaving his skin feeling frozen as his palms flatten against the hard ground beneath him.

Steve doesn't know what to do; he can feel Bucky's _hatred_ throb through their bond... but also, he can feel the instinctive desire to _protect_. Like a fierce animal at the end of its tether, the demon's frustration has only built, and his desire to defend what is his has grown.

The second that Steve had realised that they had been caught, worry and apprehension had filled the blond...and in that moment, Bucky had perceived the other human as a threat. Not to himself, but to Steve and to the bond that they share. The demon had not thought about his actions, he had merely followed his impulsions.

But, the demon is willing to do anything to keep the blond by his side. And no matter what he has to do, he knows that he will never feel regret for it.

However, Steve knows that right now, is an obstacle that they can get through together.

“Bucky! Bucky, its okay,” Steve soothes, although his own heart is beating erratically, pulsating loudly in his ears. The blond presses his hand to the demon's back, right between where those coarse wings have ripped through the black fabric. Bucky remains unflinching, although his resonating growls come to a quiet stop as the cadet's gentle touch somewhat calms the fiend. As if the hand upon his back is a reminder that Steve isn't planning on going anywhere that isn't with the demon, but is also allows the demon to understand that Sam isn't the biggest issue that they will surely face. _“Bucky.”_

It takes a moment, but Bucky's wings finally fold against the demon's back- not disappearing entirely, but draping by his sides like a cloak of raven feathers. As soon as Bucky's arms cross over his chest in a gesture of irritation, Sam immediately struggles to a stand.

The other cadet goes to take a step closer, but Steve holds up his hand to his friend as he slides in front of the demon.

“What the _fuck_ is going on, Steve?” The other cadet exclaims.

“Sam, I can explain.” The blond isn't actually sure if that is the truth, but that doesn't stop him from trying to get Sam to believe it regardless.

“Explain? Oh, I'm sure that'll clear it up.” His voice drips with harsh sarcasm, and it makes the blond wince.

“Sam, please. Its not what you think.”

“Really, and what exactly is it, then? Is he taking advantage of you? Have you _lost control.”_

“No! Of course I haven't. Its more complicated than that,” Steve attempts to make Sam understand, but his voice is shaky and honestly, he feels sick to his stomach. As if tiny insects are crawling under his skin, biting at his insides until there is nothing but a cold trail left behind.

“Complicated. Why doesn't that surprise me,” Sam snaps, arms folding in defence.

“Trust me. I'll explain everything, just don't mention this to anyone.” Steve has never been one to ask such a request, but he would do anything so that he and Bucky can stay together- to stay _bonded._ “Please, Sam.”

“Everything okay here?” Tony interjects, appearing in the stairwell. The dark-haired cadet is certainly surprised to see the dark class with his wings, and even more shocked to see Sam's demon fidgeting by the wall.

The blond glances at Sam, silently _begging_ the other cadet.

“Everything is fine,” Sam says, his voice terse. “Are we going to the Gym or not?”

Tony raises a brow, nodding his head as his eyes flicker between the other two cadets, the rest of the _Avengers_ not far behind. The atmosphere has shifted into something rather dark, and perhaps even forbidden. The other cadets feel it as they reach the exit of the dorms, but not a single one of the future soldiers question it. They continue to laugh and joke as their demons scurry after them as they pass the dark class.

Steve stays in place as the other cadets filter out, preferring to stick to the back of the group in fear of scrutinising eyes. As Sam passes the blond, he pauses, turning his head to meet his friend's worried eyes.

“We _will_ talk about this later,” Sam mutters under his breath, his concern is evident.

“Yeah, of course...” Steve sighs, his shoulders dropping.

Sam gives an uncertain, harsh look at the dark class, before walking out the door.

If there was a wall close enough for the blond to bang his head against, he surely would do just that. But instead, Bucky's hand encases his own. Although Steve should pull away, he chooses to squeeze the demon's warmth as he finds himself captured by those silver eyes.

Steve certainly has a bit of explaining to do, even though he has no idea where he is supposed to start.

But, perhaps it will help him to figure out exactly what their relationship is.

For it is certainly not as simple as a soldier and his demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The full image of the Stucky drawing I have done has officially been posted on IG & Tumblr, so check that out if you would like to:
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/thedemonbond/  
> https://thedemonbond.tumblr.com/


	25. I Desperately Hold Onto Your Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ twenty-four:  
> **Cadets began their second year at the academy.  
> **Bucky attempted to take their level of intimacy to the next step, but Steve rejected the advance.  
> **On Steve's birthday, Sam caught them kissing... Now Steve needs to explain exactly what is going on between the bonded pair.

Steve paces the length of his room, back and forth like an anxious dog pacing its cage. Back and forth. Back and forth. Again and again. Not uttering a single word, but his mind is swamped with them. Crowded with questions and attempts at explanations, constantly changing as he figures what it is that he needs to say.

But what he needs to say, and what he _can_ say... are two very different things.

The blond is mortified that Sam had caught the pair kissing, and even more embarrassed about the fact that he has to explain _why._

But _why..._ Steve doesn't really know. The emotions and sensations he feels when with Bucky are honestly confusing, and Steve cannot even begin to describe them. Talking with Bucky, laughing, touching, kissing... sleeping in the demon's arms... Steve craves all of that, even though he knows that he shouldn't. It is something out of his control, and no amount of denying the existence of his desires will change any of it.

“He won't say anything,” Bucky declares from where he leans against the desk, watching each of the blond's steps until he comes to a sudden halt, turning to the demon.

“I know... It's just that-”

“You don't need to become anxious. I won't let anything happen to you,” the demon says gently, nothing but tenderness and conviction to his words.

“You know it's you who I worry about,” Steve sighs, head low as his feet come to align in front of his demon's. Bucky takes the younger man's hands into his own, bring them up to his lips to kiss those knuckles one by one. The gesture soothes the blond, just as his touch soothes the demon. Those anxious thoughts become nothing but small particles in a sea of contentment and _warmth._

“There's certainly no need to.”

Before Steve can say anything in reply, there is a firm knock at his door, and even though it lacks that cheerful rhythm, the blond knows it is Sam. The other cadet had agreed to come to Steve's room in the late evening while the rest of the _Avengers_ and the other second years gather in the lounge.

Giving the demon once last fleeting look, Steve wanders to the door, the handle feels as if it is burning his palm as he opens it. Sam raises one angled brow as the blond steps to the side to allow him in. The taller cadet is silent as he enters the room, although he doesn't go too far in when he notices the dark class observing them.

“Why the hell is he here?” Sam spits aggressively.

“ _Sam,”_ Steve pleads, drawing his friend's attention. The door clicks shut behind them. “Just hear me out, okay?”

“Fine,” the other cadet huffs, but upon seeing Steve's solemn expression, his voice becomes that little bit softer. “I'm just concerned about you.”

“What you saw...” The blond begins, although he leaves a lot unsaid.

“I haven't mentioned it to anyone,” Sam states.

“Thank you.”

“But seriously, Steve, I didn't think you were that type of person.” Arms folding, Sam's brows furrow in distaste. “To be fuckin' around with your demon. And to _kiss_ him-”

“It's not like that,” the cadet quickly interjects.

“Then, what is it like?”

“Its difficult to explain,” Steve sighs again, a part of him wondering the exact same thing.

_What is it like?_

_What is their relationship?_

Honestly... Steve hasn't a clue. But what he does know, is that it is something mutual, and it is something _good._

“And you are sure that you have complete control of him?” Sam asks, his worry more evident than his previously harsh words.

“Yes,” Steve says firmly.

“Then... what exactly is going on between you two?”

“The circumstance is different to everyone else's here.” There isn't a better way to put it, Steve needs to be careful with what he says. If he lets Bucky's secrets loose... The blond isn't sure how Sam or the dark class would react.

“What do you mean?”

“Our bond is unique. He's _unique,”_ Steve proclaims, for this he is sure of.

“A dark class, I know-” Sam groans, but his annoyed demeanour is quickly interrupted.

“No, it's more than that.”

“You mean his level?” The cadet is pulling at strings, for he doesn't actually understand what Steve sees in such a fiend. And he certainly doesn't understand quite why the blond allows himself to speak of the demon in such a way. A way that expresses fondness and some forbidden emotion that even Steve can't name.

“I mean the demon himself.” Sam doesn't look convinced by Steve's fumbled explanation, so the blond gently continues. “He is a lot more intelligent than any other demon I've met, and even more so than the ones we have been taught about.”

“Right, and so you've fucked with him?” The taller cadet scoffs.

“What? No! Of course not. We haven't...” Steve's voice trails off. The smaller man is sure that both human and demon can see the small blush arising on his cheeks. “It's more than just anything physical.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you're in a _relationship_ with him, then? Because that is just crazy.” Sam's tone is filled with nothing but contempt for such an irrational thought.

He cares for the blond dearly, but Sam can't even begin to entertain the idea of a human and demon being so intimate with one another. It isn't _right,_ and such a path can surely only end in chaos and death.

“Its not that either... It's just that, ah, I don't know.” Steve is becoming more frustrated by the minute. Not just because of the situation, but because he himself cannot explain it. His left fingers dig into his blond strands while he contemplates what to say next. “Whatever this is, between me and my demon, it is something mutual.”

“How can you even say that? If that demon had even the slightest chance, he would kill you!”

“I don't believe that,” the blond confesses adamantly.

“Then you're naive as well as stubborn,” Sam reprimands, his voice showing nothing but disappointment and ire. It strikes through the blond much like how an arrow would.

“You better stop talking to him like that, because I will not hesitate to kill _you,”_ Bucky snarls, calm, but his voice is laced with agitation. The demon's silver-flecked eyes burn the surface of Sam's skin with the pure ferocity that oozes from them; the room seemingly turning colder as its corners darken in swirls of black mist.

Sam practically freezes in place, mouth agape, wide eyes and the demon can perceive the uneven throbbing of his heart. But the blond is just as shocked, staring at the demon in a mixture of adoration and apprehension.

“He...he...talks...” Sam stutters, disbelieving and his mind hazy with the faintest hint of fear. “He _talks._ What the-”

“Please don't freak out,” Steve says quickly to his friend.

“ _He talks,”_ Sam exclaims once more, his voice becoming louder. “He actually fucking _talks.”_

“Yeah, he does.”

“How long has he been speaking for?” Although Sam turns to the blond to ask, his stare immediately goes back to the demon. As if he is afraid to turn his back to the dark class.

“Since the day we bonded,” Steve confesses, his voice quiet as if giving up a long-lasting fight.

“Who knows about this? Have you told anyone?”

“No, and you can't tell anyone either,” the blond says firmly, although it is laced with a certain pleading tone.

“What? Why not? This is dangerous,” Sam admonishes, for he believes that demons are as deadly as any creature could possibly be, and that there are no exceptions to such a rule. Bucky _is_ a threat, and Sam only wishes for Steve to understand that.

“Bucky isn't dangerous, not to me, and not to any of us!” Steve proclaims, though he isn't actually sure of how much truth there is to his statement. But still, deep down in his core, the blond knows that his demon will never harm him.

“Oh, and so you've named him now?” The cadet scoffs, brows raised as if the blond had just told him an unfunny joke.

“I-” **  
** “And he just _threatened_ me. Fury needs to know about him. _Demonologists_ need to know about him. A demon who is actually capable of speech... this only makes him more deadly. He's probably been manipulating you into all of this.”

The demon watches their interaction, biting back a growl that begs to be let loose. His body throbs, as if the shadows under his skin are readying themselves for a fight. One that the demon knows he could win easily, but one which the blond will not allow him to take part in.

“Sam, _please._ You can't tell anyone, not even Fury. If they find out how unique he is... They'll just experiment on him! And what if... what if they _unbond_ us? That would kill me, _literally,_ and it would probably kill him too!” Steve is desperate now, and that is so very clear in his expression and the way his hand gestures to the demon after frantically running through those blond locks.

“Steve-”

“Our bond, our compatibility... It is like nothing else and it's too late to go back now. We can only go forward, and to do that, you need to trust me,” Steve requests, a calm warmth seeping into his body- as if Bucky's warm aura is attempting to soothe him. But it isn't just the tender heat that has the blond taking a deeper breath to compose himself, but the knowledge that the demon is beside him. And will remain beside him, regardless of what their future entails.

“I do trust you,” Sam huffs, though his words are sincere.

“So don't tell anyone. I promise you that I am in control. And I promise you that nothing between us is forced,” the blond declares softly, but he is oddly convincing. Those blue eyes are brimming with determination, and the other cadet sees just a glimpse of what Steve feels in the darkest depths of his irises. “Sam?”

“Alright... But I want you to just be aware that he is a _demon,”_ the cadet concedes, admitting to himself that this is clearly not an argument that he has any chance of winning.

“I know that.”

“No, Steve. He is a _demon._ That means that he can't be your _friend,_ even if he can speak. And it means that he can't be your _boyfriend._ And he certainly can't be your _lover.”_

“I... I understand that.” Steve shifts on his feet, choosing to glance at the floor without so much as a conscious thought.

“Do you?” Sam asks, waiting for the blond to meet his stare. When the smaller man looks up at his close friend, although the answer is said with confidence, Steve's face lacks a readable expression. Almost as if Steve is trying to bury and disguise some unspoken emotion deep inside his chest.

“Yes.”

“Okay, then... Just... don't let anyone else catch you doing _that_ again.” It is Sam's turn to avert his gaze, clearing his throat as he refuses to look at the dark class. Only then to mutter under his breath: “although I rather you not do that at all.”

“Sam.” Steve smiles shyly, beckoning to his friend.

“Mm?”

“You know you're my best friend, right?”

“Is this bribery with compliments?” Sam teases, relaxing in the way the blond's grin widens in mirth. Steve laughs, and after a second, Sam joins in. Their awkward laughter diffusing the tense atmosphere that seems to saturate the room. For just a moment, it is as if nothing has changed.But everything has, or perhaps, the path for change has been laid. Even if that change may be only slight. At least for now.

“Thank you, Sam. For everything,” Steve says sincerely.

“I just want you to be safe,” the other cadet informs him, even though the blond is very aware of that already.

“We're not exactly in the career for that,” Steve jests. Although it is horrifying how real that statement is.

“True, but you know what I mean.” Sam smiles, any lasting anger gone, although the dark class can still taste his nerves in the air. Like musky dust on the tip of his tongue, it is something that the demon would rather eradicate. The only reason that the demon stands in place, is because of the blond he craves.

“I'll be careful, you know I always am.”

“Damn... I have so many questions...” Sam shakes his head, fingers rubbing underneath his chin as if that could reveal everything to him. “I guess I'll have to save them for another day. I think my head is about to explode.”

“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Steve mumbles.

“Alright, I'm gonna go before your demon kills me with that stare of his,” Sam half-heartedly jokes, turning on his heels before pausing to look at the smaller man. “You'll tell me if something happens? If he does anything you don't like-”

“Sam,” Steve interrupts. Although affectionate, it is that fondness that makes his naïve words so convincing. “It's okay. I'm okay... Bucky won't do anything to hurt me.”

“Bucky...right... okay. I'm just not gonna ask about that one.” Sam harshly blinks twice as he turns back towards the door.

“I'll see you in the morning, Sam,” the blond giggles.

“Mhmm, night, Steve.”

The blond doesn't question the demon as to why he decided to speak to the other cadet, but rather, he allows Bucky's arms to wrap around him as darkness fills the room.

        

It is almost October, and the cadets _finally_ get told that they will have their first field mission.

No more ruining targets with their developing weapons, but they will actually be able to test out their efficiency on real demons. There is a small area of open grassland embedded with little ponds where low level demons thrive. Specifically earth and water classes. The outskirts of the area is heavily monitored by soldiers and it is the only place where the cadets can be observed securely for their first mission.

The road from the academy to the training arena is rocky and filled with ditches that the trucks fumble over, bouncing the cadets in their seats. An older soldier drives the _Avengers_ and _Hydra_ (as Steve found out the other team to be called, after the two smaller teams had recently been merged together) with their demons following behind in a separate vehicle.

Situated in two neat rows along the sides of the long truck, the second years patiently await their arrival in the dim compartment. Fury had explained little about their goal for the mission, only saying that the results are extremely important in determining their development. Their ability to manifest, and the effectiveness of their weapons, and ultimately, how well they are able to control their demons.

Sam has said very little to the blond since discovering that there is something very intimate between Steve and his demon. But also, since finding out that the dark class is even more unique than first thought... Sam won't look Bucky in the eye. In fact, he won't look at the demon at all, half expecting some sort of a growl or another threatening reaction from the fiend.

Steve feels incredibly guilty about, well, everything. About keeping such a relationship a secret from his best friend. About not telling Sam that Bucky can talk, even when he had a clear shot to say as such many months ago. About still keeping so much knowledge to himself... when all he wants to do is share it with the world. And about how he cannot truly even begin to express exactly what he feels, for he is as confused as his friend.

But he is comforted by the fact that he knows he has done what is _right._

But, undeniably, keeping secrets is a terrible strain on one's mind, and heart. And it is also, quite possibly, rather foolish to keep secrets for someone who should not be trusted.

The truck comes to a sudden, heavy jolt and the cadets cringe at its forcefulness. Not a moment later, the wide doors are being wrenched open to reveal the sun casting itself over the ground in bright light. Eagerly -albeit a little nervously- the cadets jump out of the truck and pad over to where they can collect their demons from the other symbol-encrusted vehicle.

The blond searches for Bucky's eyes, and as soon as the dark class meets the cadet's gaze, he steps out of the back of the truck with a deep _thud._ Bucky's metallic arm glimmers in the open terrain, like sparkling knives reflecting harsh shards of light. Seemingly unimpressed, or perhaps _bored,_ the demon merely follows the blond to where Fury stands- the other second years not far behind.

“The aim in simple. Work in your assigned teams, destroy any and every demon you come across. The first team to twenty kills, wins.

“Your prize? You don't have to walk all the way back.

“But be warned, there is more at stake here than your legs aching like hell. This mission may determine your future,” Fury informs them, posture tall and overpowering as he looks over the cadets. His demon stands just ever so slightly behind him in human form, his black uniform almost as dark and intimidating as his stare.

The cadets share glances at the old soldier's words, anxious of the unknown. The mission should -theoretically- be rather easy. The arena is constantly monitored using the latest demon tech, and has been used to train soldiers for several hundred years. The cadets expect to confront water and earth class demons, of levels no higher than ten. As soon as demons of higher levels are discovered, they are immediately destroyed by the observant soldiers situated at the edges of the arena.

“What are you all waiting for? Get on with it,” Fury demands, turning away from the overwhelmed cadets, black coat swaying in the air after him. His demon is silent.

 _Hydra_ immediately disband from the _Avengers,_ although they do so hesitantly as they begin to head further into the area, splitting off into smaller groups. Steve takes a risky glimpse at his demon before addressing his team-mates.

“I think it'll be better if we stay together, get an idea of what we're actually up against. This is our first time facing demons out in the open, and it's best that we don't get any surprises. We can handle any situation more efficiently if we work together,” Steve says, clearing his throat as he folds his arms.

“Sure, sounds like a good plan to me.” Tony shrugs with a smile.

The rest of the _Avengers_ silently agree with a nod of their heads, comfortable with the decision to stay as one unit. Compared to the other group of second years, the _Avengers_ are far more organised in their interactions. There is a certain level of communication between them that makes them more efficient, and in the future, will make them more deadly.

Although the _Avengers_ had only been assembled just over a year ago, they see one another as not only their friends... but as people they can trust when danger surrounds them. And danger... lurks around every corner. In all sorts of varied obstacles, shapes and sizes. But the danger is very real, no matter its form.

“Let's get to work, then.” Clint grins, his keen-attitude almost makes the sun seem that little less bright.

Venturing out onto the dry land, the ground beneath them is somewhat dusty around patches of growing grass. Blue and brown puddles and slightly larger bodies of water scatter across the arena. As they reach further across the plains, a small arrangement of trees can be seen in the far distance.

But, they have barely walked for ten minutes before they come across the first demon. None of the cadets notice it at first, but Bucky does. Steve feels a strange tugging sensation in his chest as their bond throbs and the blond instantly realises that the dark class is giving him a warning.

The demon is no bigger than a cat, crouching between blades of tall grass to conceal itself. Its body is covered with varied hues of moss, with tiny yellow flowers springing out of its back. With four limbs, it is hunched on its back feet, its front two acting almost like clawed hands. It has two small, spiralled horns atop its large round head. It's eyes are gold with brown flecks, and almost eagle-like. As soon as Steve's gaze finds the fiend, it's wide mouth bares overgrown, thin fangs that stretch across its jaw.

The other cadets are instantly alerted of the new demon's presence when its deep hiss saturates the air, it spits like a snake, long, black tongue darting out as it observes the humans. Steve figures that the earth class can't be any higher than level five, and is most certainly a trickster. But before any one of the _Avengers_ can manifest their weapons the fiend suddenly lets out a loud squeal, swivelling round onto all fours to scurry away. Not even a second later, the fiend disappears into a patch of dusty ground. Moulding and becoming one with the earth.

“It... ran away...” Bruce mutters, nothing but confusion tainting his voice.

“I thought demons are meant to try and attack us?” Rhodey says questioningly.

“It looked so scared before it ran off,” Wanda interjects.

Steve is sure, that the demon had not been frightened of the _Avengers._ But the dark class with his overpowering presence most likely terrified the low level demon. Bucky doesn't have to truly display his abilities, for other demons can sense his immense power. Power that is far more deadly than any human realises... including the blond.

The _Avengers_ carry on their search for other demons, walking quietly through the terrain. Well, they had been walking quietly, until Tony's cursing filled the air when he had accidentally stepped into a rather muddy pool of water, soaking his boot and sock. But in the slowly burning sun, the wet mud dries, and the cadet is left with crusty flakes and specks of collected brown dust around his left ankle. They return to silence, except from Clint's ever so amused, soft sniggering.

However, it isn't too long before they come across a second demon. Steve feels that same tugging sensation, and knows that a demon must be nearby. Although the blond isn't exactly sure what he is looking for -as demons most certainly come in all sorts of shapes and sizes, and in many different forms- he knows that his own demon will guide him. Steve steals a glance at Bucky, only for the demon's eyes to cast to the right.

Following Bucky's gaze, Steve searches for any sign of movement, the _thump thump_ of his heart surprisingly calm. The vast landscape is seemingly void of life, like a barren plain painted with sporadic patches of green and dotted with somewhat blue tones.

A ripple in the water.

Steve stops in his tracks, his attention instantly focusing on that slight movement, albeit realistically, it is very likely that the breeze caused the surface of the water to shake so gently. But then, the water ripples out again, more forceful this time, as a pair of eyes break the surface. Those small, blue eyes connect to a long, grey-skinned body that shines like fish scales. The rest of the _Avengers_ take note of the demon no bigger than the length of Steve's arm, with a smooth tail and frills along the entire length of its form, seemingly melting with the water around it.

It's third eyelid slides across its eyes as it blinks, taking in the presence of the humans and demons before it. Tiny bubbles erupt from the demon's mouth beneath the water, and the creature reminds Steve of some sort of fish-like crocodile. But it is certainly not like any being any of the cadets have ever seen. In the water, the demon has two front legs that tuck neatly under its muscular body, its form buoyant enough to float.

But before any human can get closer to the water class, the demon splashes in the water, sending big droplets of muddy liquid over the cadets and their bonded demons, before vanishing completely. Although the demon has probably only changed form to conceal itself, it is almost as if the demon had never been there.

Beads of brown water on his face, the blond turns to look at Bucky while the other cadets are distracted, his gaze landing on a very amused demon. Or rather, the dark class appears self-satisfied. Smug grin as if he is very aware of the fact that he is scaring the low level demons away from the group.

Steve suggests that they should go to the forest that by now isn't too far away at all. The cover of those trees may give the _Avengers_ an advantage over the ever observant demons; concealing themselves until they get close enough so that the demon won't have the time to react to their presence. However, the blond can't help but feel as if... as if these demons are trapped in a cage like mice, with viscous cats above them. Preying on them, for like the demons the cadets are supposed to be hunting, the mice have nowhere to run. They are weak, with no chance of escaping the claws that will surely end their lives.

It doesn't seem like a fair fight.

But, although that may be true, the universe does not rely on fair laws.

The tree trunks are thick and brown and are at least three times the height of the blond, with deep green leaves that shift with the gentle wind. The trees are evenly spread apart either side of a thin trail that curves through the woodlands. The pathway is patterned with fallen leaves and silver pebbles every so often, making the trek uneven to walk upon.

“I thought this place is supposed to be crawling with demons,” Clint grumbles, though none of the cadets mind his complaining. They are all concerned by the lack a fiends trying to attack them- even if they couldn't do much harm to the humans.

“I wonder how _Hydra_ are doing,” Sam ponders out loud.

“Probably better than-” Tony's sarcastic remark is cut short, when a high pitched scream rattles through the trees.

The _Avengers_ are instantly on edge, heads turning to isolate the screech that echoes around them. After a mere moment, the blond picks up on the shouts of a cadet close by, and he immediately runs towards it. Their feet pound against the dry earth, crunching leaves and snapping twigs as they duck through a small opening between two overgrown trees.

Momentarily blinded by the bright sun, the cadets and their demons find themselves in a round clearing, big enough to hide a deep body of water that stretches across the otherwise dusty expanse. But it is not the strange lake that catches their attention, but the dead body on the ground.

The dead _human_ body.

Not a demon, but a human cadet.

His body is drenched in water, soaked brown hair matted against his face. On their back against the mud beneath them, eyes closed with an unseen cloudiness, mouth slightly ajar with blue lips... as if he had drowned. Their bonded demon is crouched down, panting on the floor in agony near the cadet, breathing deeply and almost viciously for air. The fire class demon will survive, but in that moment, it is in so much pain. But even though now the demon is unbonded, it will still never be free, and in-fact.. it will probably be killed before the cadets even get back to the academy.

The next thing to draw their attention is Lorraine, her blonde hair tied back and messy with her brown-tinged battle axe in hand. Swaying the manifested weapon back and forth as she retreats from the water's edge, the second year's demon growls behind her in human form. It had been Lorraine's devastated screams that the _Avengers_ had heard.

And the reason for her cries, and the dead cadet on the floor soon becomes clear.

A large water class demon erupts from the lake, easily as big as a horse with a dragon-like face, it's eel body a glorious, vibrant blue. But, its eyes are fierce and its mouth white with silver fangs akin to a snake's. It hisses and the water around it shakes onto the land with the force of its movements.

The cadets have never known true fear, until meeting such a creature.

Steve's heart throbs in his chest and pounds like a disruptive rhythm in his ears. The cadets halt in place in a moment of overwhelming confusion- they are out of their depths. Never once, have they truly been in danger at the academy, but right now, their lives are at risk.

They could die without ever having _lived._

Without ever completing the goals that they have set themselves, and the aims that they want nothing more than to reach. To die without becoming a soldier, for the cadets would be as if they had merely spent their lives in a cell. Never once exploring the vast world around them, and it is indeed enormous and full of diversity.

As Lorraine backs up towards the tree line that circles the clearing, the water class demon shifts and a blue mist envelops it in the form of water. Swirling around the demon's form to obscure it from view, although the glow of its deep blue eyes still penetrate through. As the demon nears where the lake meets the muddy earth, Steve only has a second to analyse the demon and his surroundings.

Water class.

Trickster type.

Level thirty-five.

When the demon reaches the soft ground, the mist suddenly drops to reveal the demon's human form. Long white hair tangles to her slim waist, her pale skin adorned with blue scales that cover her from her chest to her thighs as she steps forward. Those scales are like tiny, delicate shards of glass reflecting the light of the sun, almost like an illusion. But her silver fangs are still very real as she spits at the cadet, fingers curling with pointed nails. Although technically beautiful, two grey ram horns rest against the sides of her head, masking her pretty features.

But that is when she notices the _Avengers_ watching idly by, and she turns to them with a high-pitched shriek that almost sounds as if she had screamed underwater. But Bucky steps forth, and Steve snaps out of his frozen state and holds his arm out to stop the dark class from going any further.

“Spread out!” Steve commands his team-mates, his voice jolting them all out of the same mind-frame he had been in just a second ago. “We need to surround her!”

With the blond's demand, the cadets quickly separate with their demons to enclose the snarling water class. Steve is the first to manifest his weapon, the black shield light in his hand as he leans his shoulder back. But as Steve lets the shield slice through the air, something feels off. The accuracy is still there, and the weapon's power is obvious in its speed, but just before it hits the demon's chest... the water class moves to the side. As if the fiend had turned to literal water, its movements are graceful as it dodges the shield which swiftly turns into black mist before disappearing entirely.

Steve is taken aback by the fiend's quick reactions, even when the other _Avengers_ try to disable the demon with their own weapons; those who have long range weapons (like Sam and his shurikens) attempt to even just scrape of the demon's skin, but no one gets even as close as Steve had been. Not even when the other members of _Hydra_ break from the cover of trees when they had heard the screams carried through the winds.

Cadets with close-combat weapons can't even get two steps nearer the fiend who stays seemingly just out of reach. But some of the cadets... some of them struggle to manifest under the pressure, and Steve is sure that he sees someone vanish back into the safety of the trees once more.

It doesn't take long until panic sets in, and even though it hasn't even been five minutes since the water class had first been discovered, it feels as if their efforts of trying to take down the fiend are endless, and utterly pointless. Steve doesn't know what to do, the only logical plan has been compromised by the mere fact that the demon is too powerful, and far too agile to take on effectively. The water class is outnumbered, but this is clearly a fight that cannot be won by inexperienced cadets.

Steve yelps, automatically manifesting the shield to protect himself as the water class raises it arms, sending out a burst of water in his direction. The light blue liquid bounces off of the weapon, the force pushing the blond back against Bucky's chest. With a screech, the demon manipulates a beam of water -almost like a wave- over the other cadets, knocking several of them to the muddy, thick ground.

Just before Steve goes to throw the shield, Bucky gently grabs his arm and the weapon instantly fades as the blond looks up at his demon. Bucky merely slides his hand down to the blond's thin wrist, and for a second, everything is silent as Steve gazes into those silver-flecked orbs. It is as if sparks of electricity are shooting through the flesh of Steve's arm, causing it to fizz and buzz and his fingers to tingle.

But as soon as the demon loosens his grip, Steve can once more perceive the sound of chaos around them. Of the frightened shouts and dismayed cries of a losing battle. However, there is no longer any trace of fear residing inside the blond. Instead, there is a sense of _knowing._ As if Steve's body understands what needs to be done; and what he has to do.

Taking a single step forward to where the dry, crumbling earth becomes damp, his boots sink ever so slightly into the dense mud. The action would ground him if it weren't for his demon's touch still lingering on the surface of his skin. Raising the hairs of his arm with a burning energy that seems so familiar, and yet at the same time, is entirely new. Making a loose fist at his side, black tendrils entwine up the length of his arm, concentrating at his palm and between his slender fingers. The shadows thicken and distort into smoke, and Steve can feel something harden against his skin.

The hilt black, and the blade even darker, a penknife -no bigger than the stretch of Steve's hand- presses into his grasp. Little sparks of white light flicker from the knife, but they do not hurt the cadet, but rather... they fill him with intense energy and the sensation of guidance. The blond does not have to think, but just allow his body to move on its own. For Bucky's power courses through him more than it has ever before; influencing and nurturing his every instinct.

As if the demon is becoming an even bigger part of him... for their bond has grown, becoming not just stable, but cemented like a stone bridge. Their bond always has a luscious current throbbing through it, and now, that energy has only matured into something even more powerful. Energy that is shared between them, as the demon's powers slowly seep into the depths of the blond's core.

After taking a deep breath, allowing the damp air to fill his lungs... the knife cuts through the air without the cadet thinking of where to even aim, causing a sharp noise to resonate into the cadet's ears similar to the sound the shield produces. Spinning towards the water class, she moves out of the weapon's line of impact. But, just before that blade passes her, white and purple lightning bolts of electricity jolt from the weapon, and the knife instantly shifts and changes course.

It happens far too quickly for anyone to actually realise it, but the slim point of the blade becomes embedded into the demon's chest; right in the centre through broken ribs. A broken, gurgled scream bursts from the demon's throat, her pain clear as the scales across her chest turn black around the blade. As if those once blue scales have been charred by the darkest of coal, but in fact, there is a dark shadow crawling under her skin. The cadets hurry to cover their ears with the palms of their hands, the cry loud enough to penetrate through the woodlands and tremble the surface of the lake.

The water demon's knees buckle as she drops to the ground, gasping for breath as water drips down her form. Black mist twirls around the hilt of the knife, before the weapon vanishes as the demon's irises fade into a dim white. In that instant, any movement from the demons halts as her head and shoulder hit the earth with a faint splash of muddy water.

Silence.

Nothing but the sound of leaves and the gentle whistling of the wind. The lake that was once full, is now almost empty, revealing dry, cracked earth beneath it. The water class is lifeless, its body maintaining its humanoid form. None of the cadets have the time to process the situation before Fury and other soldiers surge into the clearing to find the second years stunned and exhausted under the hot sun. None of them can quite take their gazes off of the body of the deceased water class demon... and of the dead cadet.

The demon... she should not have gone undetected.

She should not have escaped the eyes of their extensive surveillance.

The cadets should not have been able to take her down, or rather, it is only because of a certain dark class that they had even stood a chance.

A demon of such a level should have easily been recognised... and immediately destroyed.

But instead, the cadets were left to stumble upon the fiend, and that... has cost them a life.

Steve notices a dark patch of black sand beside the demon's body, no bigger than the palm of his hand. But before the blond has a chance to look closer, Fury interrupts his thoughts with a deep voice that is like a blessing compared to the demon's piercing shrieks.

“Cadets! Who is responsible for destroying the demon? Tell me now!” Fury booms, his demon right beside him as they reach the young men and women.

Steve's mind is still focused on the demon, and the fact that he has actually just killed such a creature. He doesn't quite perceive the words, for his mind is hazy as if a mist has swamped over his every conscious thought. But every other cadet feels that way; completely overwhelmed by the shock of meeting such a fiend, and the knowledge that someone has died because of it. They had not been prepared, and now Steve feels sick to his stomach.

Does Steve feel _guilty?_

No.

Does he feel _regret?_

No.

Does he feel a terrible ache in his chest?

Yes.

For although Steve has just saved the lives of his team-mates, he has also taken a life for the very first time. And that... it takes a little getting used to. Steve has not been hardened by war like Bucky, but soon, he will be. It won't take long until destroying demons becomes second nature, and eventually, Steve will feel nothing but his own demon's presence in his chest. Displacing that uneasiness, and overwriting the sense of sin.

“It was Rogers.”

Steve looks up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice uttering his name, opening his mouth to say something until-

“Nice work, cadet,” Fury praises earnestly.

“Thank you, sir.” Steve bows his head, not quite managing a smile in return.

“Someone get rid of that demon, and get a body-bag for the boy,” Fury demands, turning to address the older soldiers. “And I want to know exactly how the hell that demon was able to go undetected.”

While soldiers hurry around the clearing, the cadets take just a moment to allow themselves to relax. Even though they may not sleep peacefully until weeks have gone by. Steve glances to the side to find Lorraine in tears, sobbing into her hands as Wanda attempts to comfort her. But no amount of gentle words can erase what she has seen.

The cadets are soon coerced back into the vehicle after having to leave their demons in the second transport truck. Fury rests in the front while another soldier drives, tapping at the sleek tablet in hand as alerts pop up on the screen. Several of the future soldiers applaud Steve being able to kill the demon, and the blond can only awkwardly thank them and their disbelieved gasps that he had manifested a second, entirely different weapon. Although it isn't unusual for a soldier to be able to manifest more than one weapon, it is unheard of for any soldier to be able to manifest two weapons that are very different from one another.

“I can't believe you can manifest a knife too! I thought the shield was pretty cool, but _damn.”_

“I didn't even realise where the knife had come from at first until Gabe said you had manifested it,” a cadet who Steve recognises as being called Tim says as he gestures to the man who had previous spoken.

“I thought you were just being suicidal stepping closer to that demon,” Jim (Steve is sure that this is his name) admits, shaking his head as if that could help him comprehend what had happened.

A knife and a shield; even Steve is a little dumbfounded by the mere idea that he can manifest such weapons. Even though he shouldn't have been able to, the blond can only be thankful.

But it isn't because of Steve's unique weaponry that the cadet is now troubled. But that the black knife had sparked from its every surface- sparked with electricity. Which is all good and well, for it may have saved their lives. But Steve can only manifest such a weapon using Bucky's powers, therefore... the dark class has been hiding the true extent and expanse of his powers. Not just from the academy, but from the blond himself.

“Hey, guys, this isn't the time to be so childish. Your team lost someone today. A cadet _died_. One of our _own_ died. Be a little more respectful, you can be impressed with Steve's abilities later,” Rhodey scolds.

The regret can instantly be seen in the faces of the cadets as they quieten down. Becoming so silent, that Steve can still hear Lorraine's laboured cries. It is awfully warm in the back of the truck, but none of the cadets dare to complain: they still have their lives. And for that, they should be grateful.

As soon as they jump out of the vehicle to collect their demons, Steve hears his name being called:

“Rogers.”

“Yes, sir?” The blond turns to address the older soldier, straightening his back out of habit. The sound of the truck doors opening has Steve's heart beating a little bit faster as he longs to reunite with his demon. Even if they haven't been parted for long. But there are things that need to be said, and they are most certainly things that can only be said in the privacy of Steve's room.

“Come find me first thing in the morning in the laboratories,” Fury instructs the smaller man, watching how the dark class moves out of the vehicle without a command, walking slowly to stand just behind the blond. “There are some things I would like to discuss with you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring your demon with you,” Fury adds, and with that, he turns on his heels, black coat dismissing the cadet, his own demon no where in sight.

The faintest feeling of dread pools in the blond's stomach as apprehension sinks in. While Steve technically hasn't done anything wrong ~~except for keeping a lot of important demon information to himself~~ he still can't help but worry about whether he has made a mistake or not.

Has he been a fool trusting his demon? A demon that is intelligent and who has more power than Steve can imagine. A demon who he craves the embrace of... Perhaps the future soldier needs to realise that there is a lot about Bucky that he doesn't know. Not just about his past, but the demon as he presently stands. Steve can't help but feel a little misled. The dark class doesn't tell the cadet a lot in comparison to all there is to know, but when Steve finds out something, it is only because Bucky wants him to.

Bucky's secrets are locked deep inside a cage, but occasionally, some slip out. But only ever due to the demon unlocking the door that contains them.

Now, in this moment... Steve does not know where to begin, or rather, he isn't sure how he should confront the demon about what had occurred. And as the blond's thoughts become focused on nothing but on what had happened... he realises something. All of a sudden, another piece of the puzzle that is Bucky appears, and it fits perfectly into one of the many empty places.

Steve is silent as he and Bucky wait in his room for the other cadets to finish with the showers; only when Sam knocks on the door to inform the blond that they are going to the canteen to eat, that the pair make their own way to rid themselves of the particles of dirt upon them. But even then, Steve says nothing. Neither does the demon, who observes the younger man closely, as if trying to determine his thoughts. Or rather... what the cadet wishes to say.

Bucky can sense that fleck of agitation bubbling through their bond, like water slowly being warmed by a heated flame. The demon's fingers trace the inside of the blond's wrist under the cool spray of the shower, allowing the smaller man to settle back against his chest. Although Steve relaxes into the demon's hold, his lips remain sealed with his silence.

But with the demon pressed against him, Steve finally knows exactly what to say.


	26. Your Power Is Suffocating, Yet I Can Still Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Twenty-five:  
> **Steve and Sam talked about the relationship between Steve and Bucky.  
> **Sam discovered that Bucky can talk.  
> **The Avengers had their first field mission in the Arena  
> **Steve manifested a knife, which he used to kill a high level water class demon. But not before the demon killed a member of the other team (Hydra).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter twenty-six here: It's time for some more secrets to be revealed! Haha
> 
> Just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU!!! Because I am an idiot and didn't even realise that this story has reached over 900 Kudos! And the subscriptions, the bookmarks... This story has so many comments too, and each one makes me smile and I feel so happy when I read them. So, thank you. Each and every one of you, whether you've just left a kudo or a comment, or subscription or bookmark... I am thankful to you all.
> 
> Okay! So, quick notice about The Demon Bond IG & Tumblr accounts. Don't worry, I'm still posting on them weekly now that I've settled into uni and have organised my time properly. But, along with the symbols, I'm going to be posting other demon facts aswell- ones that don't necessarily correlate to a symbol.  
> I'm going to start with posting about the biology of demons tomorrow (I've named the series of facts "Demon Biology 101" because I am all for cliches). All of the facts posted are canon to The Demon Bond universe, and although not all of the demon biology facts I've created/made up are important or vital to the story in any way... they're super fun and interesting and I hope you will all agree!

As soon as the familiar  _click_  of Steve's door echoes behind them, the cadet turns to meet the demon's gaze. Blond strands are still wet from the shower, just as those dark strands are, and a tiny droplet of water cascades down the younger man's face. Bucky stares into those blue eyes, patiently waiting for words to be uttered between them.

“You can control electricity,” the blond says bluntly.

“I never said that I can only control shadows and fire.” Bucky folds his arms over his bare chest, those glorious muscles flexing with the movement.

“Is that how you got out of containment?”

Being so powerful, it wouldn't have been difficult for the demon to manipulate the wires that surround each containment cell. To then open the door  _just a fraction.._. allowing himself to escape. Regardless of his cell being prepared for whatever abilities the dark class may have had, it would not have been strong enough to contain the demon. Steve understands this well. Although the academy likes to think that it is capable of handling high level demons, in truth, demons like Bucky have the advantage.

“Don't ask something you already know the answer to,” Bucky replies softly.

“Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you  _show_ me? Do you not trust me enough?” The blond's chest feels tighter as he speaks, his voice on the edge of wavering with uncertainty. Uncertainty about the demon, even if their pulsating bond tells him that there is no reason to doubt Bucky's intentions.

“I was under the impression that I did show you. You manifested that weapon with my power. Does that not count?” The lack of emotion in the demon's tone is off-putting, as if attempting to hide something. Or perhaps Bucky is merely being defensive when confronted by those saddened blue eyes.

“You knew I would be able to manifest a second weapon?” Steve can't quite manage a glare... because he knows the demon has never meant him any harm.

“I don't see any reason to not allow you to use my abilities. There are times where you must change your tactics. But since you would not allow me to be your weapon, I made sure that you were more than capable of killing that demon.”

“By allowing me to use more of your power?” The cadet is confused, because in this moment, the dark class is revealing something rather  _deadly_  to the smaller man.

But, why had the demon bothered hiding the fact that he can control electricity? There must be something more to it that the demon is keeping concealed. But his curiosity is overriding his faint sense of hurt as the dark class slowly feeds him information that the blond cannot ignore.

“Yes,” Bucky says simply.

“So the other demons can control how much of their energy we can use?”

“No, the other demons are not strong enough to allow any of their power to become dormant,” Bucky corrects calmly, watching the blond staring stubbornly back: far from intimated by those silver-flecked eyes.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, the unfamiliar term catching his interest. Like a kitten who has spotted a speck of light dancing upon a wall. The blond could reach out and take the light, but it may fall through his fingertips. However... the demon will allow the younger man with that hopeful gaze to grasp at what no other human knows of.

“As we age, we can learn to control our abilities in such a way that we can control how much of our power we use, and how much power we let rest. The energy can still be accessed at any time, but it cannot be seen in our aura,” the demon explains.

“So a demon's aura becomes smaller if some of their power is dormant?”

“Mhm, although not a lot of demons allow their powers to become dormant.”

“But if you allowed your power to become  _dormant,_ as you call it, does it mean that all of your power can still be detected? By demon-tech?” The blond questions eagerly, for another piece of a very large puzzle is slotting into place.

“The energy that is dormant, cannot be detected,” the dark class confesses.

“So a demon's level may be underestimated?”

“Perhaps.” Although the demon says it without any particular emphasis, Steve can depict that mischievous glint in the darkest parts of his eyes.

“Are you trying to tell me that some of your power has been dormant until today? Well, uh, the electricity kind of energy you have? Except from when you used it to get out of containment...” Steve's voice becomes quieter, his fingers entwining nervously together, though undeterred by the prospect that Bucky may be far more powerful than Steve realises.

A demon's class, means that the demon has that kind of energy, or  _power-_ which in turn then allows them to manipulate specific elements. A fire class, and an electricity class demon have very different energies to one another. Meaning that Bucky -who not only has the ability of a dark class to control shadows, but fire as well as electricity- has three very different, and unique energies residing within him. Therefore, it is entirely possible for the demon to make sure only his electric abilities remain undetected, thus lowering his perceived level.

“A lot of my power has been dormant,  _my little warrior,”_ Bucky smiles, his metallic hand crawling up the cadet's arm to the sleeve of the white shirt, only to trail along the fabric to slide along the pale skin of Steve's throat. The blond's breath hitches ever so slightly, casting his eyes away until the demon cups under his chin, forcing the smaller man to look up at him.

But of course, it is also completely possible that the majority of Bucky's power has remained dormant- not just his power to manipulate electricity, but some of his other abilities may have been partially dormant. Which only makes Steve wonder just how far off Bucky's estimated level fifty-five is from the demon's true level.

“You can manipulate shadows... has some of that energy been dormant too?” Steve shrugs off the demon's touch, and Bucky allows his arm to return to his side- even if something aches deep inside of him because of the rejection of his tender caress.

But the cadet refuses to let himself become entrapped and swept away by the demon's sweet actions, instead, Steve seeks knowledge; regardless of him also desiring Bucky's warm embrace.

It's just that the blond needs to  _know..._

Know precisely how powerful Bucky is.

To do that, his stubbornness must not be overwhelmed by handsome smirks or jolts of electrifying heat throughout his body.

“Mmm, maybe,” Bucky hums nonchalantly in amusement.

“You wont tell me?” Steve frowns, for surely he has been patient enough with the demon to get a direct answer that is not overcast by Bucky's almost mocking replies.

“If you  _beg_  me... I might  _indulge_ you,” the demon teases playfully, although there is an animalistic roughness to his voice.

“ _Bucky._  I'm not in the mood right now, stop messin' around,” Steve snaps, accent thick with his irritation. The demon's smirk fades into a thin line.

“Fine. You want to know how powerful I am.” It isn't a question. Steve nods, a little unsure with Bucky's change in demeanour- it is as if a cloud of shadows have darkened the room, making the tiny hairs on the cadet's arms and neck rise with the cold shiver that trickles across him. When the demon scowls, the cadet takes a sudden step back as his deep words echo into the blond's ears. “I could destroy this whole city. I could kill every human and demon for miles.” Bucky's words are harsh and sharp, almost like a snarl. Stepping closer with each word, the cadet in turn steps back as if those invisible shadows are pushing him until his back finally hits the door with a dull thud.

Bucky's wings break from either side of his spine, encasing the blond in their shadow as the demon's hands rest on the door just above the younger man's shoulders. Steve's face is dark, but Bucky can see those wide eyes clearly. There isn't quite a  _fear_ in their depths, but most certainly a wariness there. The  _thump thump thump_ of his heart can be heard by the demon as the blond lets out a shaky exhale. Black feathers drift along the bare skin of his upper arms, it would be a tender comfort, but they are a very clear reminder that if Steve wanted to escape... he would not be able to.

“I could kill you before you even had the chance to blink. I could take your life so easily, and all that would be left of you would be whatever remains of your body. An instant death, or, I could torture you until you can no longer handle the pain. Until you lose your mind and your body gives up the will to live... I could kill you, right now.” Bucky fingers find the blond's chin once again, ever so gently angling up the blond's pale face to bring those plump lips closer. Leaning in, the demon's words ghost the cadet's mouth with each bitter whisper. All Steve can perceive are those silver eyes burning into his own- like staring at two dagger-sharp stones. “You would become just another face to the many that I have killed, and the many that I will kill. Just another body to add to the blood bath that I could cause... But...”

“But?” Steve asks breathlessly.

The way the demon is describing himself and the utter destruction he could cause... it is as if he is powerful enough to be a level eighty demon (at the very least) and the not the level fifty-five everyone else thinks he is.

Bucky's voice becomes so much softer, calmer, almost as breathless as the blond; as if barely able to contain his desire for the younger man. Their bond throbs and vibrates between them, like a rickety bridgethat never stops swaying, and yet will never break or crumble.

“But, even though I am strong enough to destroy this whole city... I could never take your life. It is something  _precious_. So even though I could turn this place into rubble, I will not, because this city is your home... and you are my weakness.”

“I'm your weakness?” Steve can barely hear his own words.

“Yes, you are a weakness that I cannot overcome.” Bucky's hand shifts to cup the younger man's face within his palm, thumbs smoothing over those pink-dusted cheeks.

“I don't understand-”

“I should not, but I want to protect you,” the demon confirms. So much honesty to his voice, that Steve can feel it resonate within himself. Like a tidal wave, their emotions overflow and intermix with the other's.

“I know that you want to protect me. You should know that I feel the same way.” Bucky should surely know that by now, the cadet has expressed his concern of yearning to protect the demon from the academy's clutches before.

“Of course I do, but there are greater threats outside of these walls than those humans.”

“I don't want to make you weak... when you make me so much stronger.” His words are said on a single breath as Steve presses into Bucky's metallic hand. His eyelids unintentionally drooping as his lips meet the cool surface, his irises peeking out seductively from behind dark, fluffy lashes.

“ _Together,_  we are strong. You may be my weakness, but in a way, you also make me more powerful than I have ever been,” Bucky admits. The dark class is confessing to the blond more than he asked for, but nevertheless, it is something that he needs to hear. When the blond gives him a disbelieving stare, the demon continues.“You have given me a new purpose.”

“A purpose?”

“My little warrior, you have given me a reason to want to live,” Bucky says with such conviction, his words could never possibly be taken as false.

Because,yes, despite everything the demon has faced in his past -most of which remains unknown to the blond- he never wants these quiet moments to fade into memories. He wants Steve to be wrapped in his embrace as his fingers comb through golden locks, for him to be safe in his shadows with the world silent around them. To push him against the mattress with his whiny moans and gasps permeating into the demon's ears. He wants to soothe every ache and pain, to make him smile and laugh and... the demon has never felt like  _this._

“And what is that reason?” Steve asks every so quietly, his voice borderline a whisper as his heart aches for the answer. Perhaps one he has been longing for.

“It is you.” The demon has never felt the determination to tear  ~~the world~~  two worlds apart in order to keep  ~~something~~ someone beside him.

As the cadet perceives the demon's words, they are like a declaration, of sorts, though of what Steve can't say.

He is a little taken aback by Bucky's words, and unable to think of anything to say in return, the cadet can only gently press their lips together- slow and sensual, wet lips desperate with desire. The cadet's thoughts are a jumbled mess, with only the demon's presence here and now at the forefront of it all.

Steve is Bucky's reason to live... and the blond cannot figure out why, or how the demon is able to feel that way so strongly.

But even without giving a name to those feelings, the younger man understands the meaning of Bucky's words. For he knows it resides in his very own core. Where there was once a strive to defend the innocent, and to become the perfect soldier... Steve knows that he would be content without any of that, if only he could be with Bucky.

“Were you trying to frighten me?” Steve gasps, breaking their kiss to lean against the demon's bare chest. His arms sneak up to rest at the demon's shoulders just as Bucky's slip around the blond's waist.

“Maybe I was just trying to  _arouse_  you,” Bucky grins, pulling the blond closer, practically lifting him off his feet to draw out a small, surprised squeal from the human. With the cadet's steady hold on his shoulders, the demon aligns their bodies, effectively carrying the blond to the bed.

Steve's delightful laughter fills the room, much how light would dispel shadows from a dark corner. Carefully, Bucky lowers himself atop the mattress, the blond a light weight against his chest while their legs slip alongside one another. Bucky relaxes his head half on Steve's arms and half on the pillow as the smaller man sighs into the crook of Bucky's neck and shoulder.

“You're so powerful... you could have anything you want. If anyone knew... they would be terrified...” Steve mutters, trying to work the logistics in his head. For right now, he rests in the arms of the most powerful demon the academy has seen in a long time, and by far, the most powerful demon a soldier has ever bonded with.

“I only want you,” the demon replies just as softly.

And after a few moments, they both fall into a tranquil sleep, despite the soldier's nerves for the day ahead.

       

 

Just before the bonded pair can enter the laboratories, one of the soldiers stood by the door informs Steve that Fury is waiting for him in the smaller building where he had first met Maria Hill. The blond only manages a few quick blinks and a muttered thank you as he turns to the other building. The sky is still obscured by the dim, dreary clouds that had invaded the academy upon nightfall. Just a fraction of the sun's morning light filters through the gaps to bathe the buildings in an orange glow.

Steve feels just as nervous as when he and Bucky had first walked down the ominous hallway to be examined. But the cadet is more apprehensive this time, for he has no idea as to why Fury wants to speak to him- and why he should come to the laboratories of all places for that talk.

In actual fact, the blond is very much aware that they may be very little conversation during the meeting. For if Fury only wanted to discuss some important issue, he would not have asked Steve to bring the dark class with him. Which only leaves the young man to assume the worst. And that only assumption makes the cadet's stomach churn and his gut twist. It makes his chest feel tight as if the air is being squeezed out of his lungs one after the other like deflating balloons.

But before Steve's mind can become overrun with his own worried, anxious thoughts about wanting to protect the demon from any number of tests that may be forced upon him... Bucky talks his hand within his own. The firm hold jolts the cadet to a gentle stop as the demon's gaze watches him closely, and after a quiet moment, he brings those pale knuckles up to his lips. The feel of Bucky's mouth pressing innocently against the bumps of his knuckles makes something rather warm ease the ache of uncertainty within his flesh. Oozing almost a sense of security and harmony where there was once fragments of fear. Eradicating the roots that would have otherwise allowed that fear within the blond to grow- like a sapling of an enormous tree that evolves until it unsettles the earth around it.

Bucky doesn't have to say anything to the younger man for him to understand. No words of  _'it'll be okay'_ are uttered between them, for the sensation itself pulsates through their bond. The demon retains the blond's hand within his own until he lowers it back against the cadet's side, finally letting his fingers fall from the smoothness of Steve's palm. Gnawing at his bottom lip, the younger man has to suppress his smile as they continue down the corridor, reaching an open door right at the very end.

As they approach the room, the pair can perceive Fury's hushed voice and Maria's excited tone. Steve is barely in the entrance before Maria spots him, their conversation automatically dissipating as she smiles to welcome the cadet. Fury tucks the electronic tablet he had been holding into the inside pocket of his coat, turning to motion the blond inside with a wave of his hand.

Unsure, the cadet cautiously allows himself to reach Fury's overpowering presence: as if the weight of a thousand battles dangle in the air around him. But those battles are most certainly ones that the older soldier has been victorious of.

“Good morning,” Steve politely says to the older humans. While Maria gleams in response, Fury's voice echoes in the room like a rumbling volcano.

“Do you know why I asked to see both you and your demon?”

“No...Sir.”

“I am well aware of the fact that you destroyed the high level water class yesterday. However, I have overheard other cadets saying that you manifested a knife. Which you used to kill the demon. Is that correct?” It shouldn't really be a question , for it definitely doesn't sound like one to the cadet's ears. But, regardless, he answers it anyway.

“Uh, yes, sir,” Steve stumbles.

“And am I correct in assuming that until yesterday, you could only manifest a shield. But now you can manifest both weapons?”

“That is correct, sir.”

“Good,” Fury states, as if he had expected the blond to lie to him. “Now, Maria is going to analyse your bond again.” Fury nods to where Maria walks towards that familiar, strange machine. Her lab coat swishes ever so slightly behind her, as if caught in the wind from outside.

“We're going test your compatibility,” doctor Hill informs the blond, those two doors sliding open as if beckoning the bonded pair to separate. Maria seems to acknowledge the hint of nervousness upon the cadet's features -and that little bit of hesitance in his stance- for her next words are spoken more softly as if in an attempt to soothe him. “There's nothing to worry about. Just relax, and we'll be done before your team even begins their morning run.”

Steve takes a deep, silent inhale as he gives one fleeting look at the dark class who stands with folded arms beside him. The laboratory air is almost icy upon the cadet's skin, and as Steve motions the demon into the right compartment, goosebumps prickle along his arms. As if the demon's warmth can no longer caress his form.

As soon as Steve enters the opposite, metallic compartment, the doors slide shut with that familiar rumble under his feet. The blond can perceive his demon's form through the frosted glass, just as he had done months ago- when they had found out that their compatibility had risen to ninety-seven percent. But now, the blond isn't sure what to expect. The clear glass to his side allows the blond to glance at Maria and Fury. But their attention is not on the bonded pair, but rather on the small screen next to the peculiar machine.

The sound of the walls humming and crackling around them has the blond's pulse rising, following the rhythm of the droning as if an old train is circling them. It doesn't take more than a few moments for the grey glass to become dotted with black flecks. Spreading like a pool of spilt ink that seeps from the centre into the very corners. Obscuring the blond's view of his demon, the human can't help but feel something jolt within his chest. His heart pounding so loudly that he is sure that Bucky must be able to hear it, even with the noise of the machine reverberating powerfully.

Taking deep breaths to steady himself, a wave of innocent desire flows through their bond and into the blond's flesh. For a moment, it is as if the demon is breathing every inhale and exhale along with him, as if their bodies are one and the same as Bucky's essence comforts the human.

Steve checks his watch every few minutes, unable to stop himself from doing so. Eager for it to be over, so that the blond can touch his demon once more. Just a gentle bump of their hands, or the press of lips back in the confines of the dorms. The younger man is only thankful that there isn't any reason for him to have to leave Bucky in containment. For although it had been painful leaving the demon while the cadets had jogged together more than a year ago... to place Bucky in containment right now (no matter the reason) would be  _excruciating._

Regardless of the fact that the dark class could easily escape, just being apart for prolonged periods of time is something that neither human or demon wish to experience again. So although Steve yearns for his demon's tender embrace, he must wait, for being unwillingly apart for barely twenty minutes is nothing compared to what they may have to face if anyone discovered just how unique their relationship is.

Sure, they have been separated by other means than containment: like on Halloween or New Years. But in those situations, the blond could have easily decided to go back to the demon, and never did he leave the actual building. Even when they had been placed in different vehicles to venture to the arena, at least Steve had known that he would be with his demon once they reached their destination. In each of those circumstances, Steve had felt more at ease, for their had been no eyes scrutinising them as there are right now.

Those eyes that watch and  _analyse_ them may determine the outcome for the bonded pair.

Their decision may break the cadet and demon apart for  _scientific tests,_ or it may allow them to freely walk out of the laboratories.

In this moment, as Steve's thoughts build up once more, the demon may be close, but he feels so very far away. As if a monstrous mountain rests tall and menacing between them, but in actual fact, there is only a layer of glass that divides them. Glass that could be easily broken into tiny shards if the demon decided so. However, no matter the distance between them, it will never fail to make the blond feel insecure and agitated.

And that... that is something rather frightening. It shouldn't bother the blond, but it does. The only thing the cadet can do is hope that he will be able to sleep in his demon's arms when the moon takes the sun's place in the sky.

Sneaking a glimpse at his watch, Steve becomes more apprehensive when twenty minutes rolls by and... neither Fury or Maria utter a word to the blond. The machine doesn't stop its thunder-like beats and the bonded pair remain in their separate compartments. But as soon as Steve opens his mouth to ask if something is wrong, Fury reaches into the inner pocket of his coat. The old soldier pulls out a square, grey box. It fits neatly in the palm of his hand as he fiddles with the lid, opening it up to reveal crimson paint.

Frowning in confusion, the cadet observes as Fury dips two fingers into the liquid as he steps closer to the machine. In the very centre of the window where the frosted glass protrudes and divides the two compartments of the machine, Fury draws an intricate symbol, or perhaps, numerous smaller ones. The sticky paint stains the window red with flecks of brown within each thin line. While Steve can see half of the symbol, his demon can perceive the other half.

But even if the cadet could see it all, it would make no difference: he has no idea what the symbol means, or what it is used for. However, the dark class is very much aware, and yet, he remains utterly calm. There is nothing that can sever their bond, nor permanently disconnect them from one another's touch. Bucky will make sure of that- and the demon is damn determined. Steve... is like the first ray of light in the morning; full of warmth and promise of a bright day. He is like a droplet of water to a dying plant, and the demon craves him in a way that he shouldn't even be capable of.

Steve's heart hammers against his ribcage like an erratic bird, anticipation creeping along his spine as nothing happens and Fury turns to go back to the screen. The blond is tempted to call out his confusion to them, when a slight movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention.

The blond is perplexed as to what exactly it is that he is seeing. Like little tiny spiders dangling in front of his chest on invisible webs, the soot-like dots gently hover. As the cadet peers closer to inspect the strange substances, more them seem to glint into his vision. However, it doesn't take long the for them to accumulate into a long black line that looks as if ink had been spilt or thrown in the air. The black vine originates from Steve's chest, and wavers through the black glass to...

Steve gasps, suddenly realising exactly what it is. For the stretch of black most definitely ends at his own demon's chest. So dark, that Steve cannot see through the string of black that has now grown at least four times as big as the blond's fist. The substance has become so dense, but even as he reaches out to touch it, his fingers cannot grasp it. Tiny particles of it shine, and yet its appearance is almost dull like black smoke. Intangible, but also so very real.

Pulsating and vibrating like a gentle wave, Steve can feel it pull at his chest. Tugging at his heart as if begging him to become physically closer to his demon. Even as the blond stays rooted where he stands, he knows that his desire to be with Bucky radiates through the blackness, allowing the demon to sense that yearning before becoming mixed in with the demon's own desire for the younger man.

The blond cannot help but stare in awe at the dark vine, and how beautiful it actually is. As if thousands of diamonds and fragments of coal trail between the two beings. But, of course...

It is their  _bond._

How could Steve possibly not find its beauty? Especially when their bond is the thing that connects the pair on such a raw and overwhelming level. Even if it cannot be touched, its presence can still be distinctly felt by both human and demon.

Suddenly, the drumming of the machine comes to a halting stop, its final whirring drones ringing in Steve's ears like an echo in a long tunnel. The black frosted glass begins to fade into grey at its very edges, turning back into its original hue as the black is seemingly washed away until there is just a small, speckled circle in the very centre. But even after a moment, that vanishes too.

Steve can perceive the outline of Bucky's physique through the blurred glass, their bond still wavering like an inky tendril between them. All the blond wants to do is press his hand to the glass just a few steps in front of him, to lean his forehead against the surely warm solid. Then, to have the demon do the exact same. And maybe if Steve were to press hard enough, the glass would disintegrate and his fingers could entwine with the demon's. However, Steve does no such thing, for two pairs of eyes are watching them.

Observing their every move, their every breath. Every one of their decision will be analysed under the intensity of the old soldier's stare. If Fury were to see something that he would deem odd or  _affectionate_ between the bonded pair, there is no doubt that Steve would no longer be able to continue the military course. Or rather, Steve would no longer be allowed to be anywhere near the demon. The blond would be forced out of the academy without so much as uttering a goodbye.

They may not be unbonded (for their bond is so strong that the process would most definitely kill Steve) but the cadet would never see Bucky again. Never be safe in his embrace or moaning under those so very gentle hands. They would be connected, but far from one another's touch. Yet Steve would still feel the pain of torture that the dark class would have to endure in the name of science. But even as Steve's logic tells him that Bucky could easily escape the academy's clutches. His heart cannot bear to take the chance of the demon becoming trapped and enchained.

And so Steve gazes at the demon's fuzzy outline, just as he becomes very aware of the dark class watching him too. Moulding into brown dust, the paint finally peels from the outside glass, gravitating to the floor with little pitter-patter sounds. As the red fades, so does their bond. Dissolving (or more accurately, becoming invisible) in the air as the stream of darkness turns into broken lines, and eventually tiny flecks. After a moment, there is nothing left to show the existence of their bond. But Steve knows that it is still there, for the tugging at his chest is yet to disappear.

Satisfied by what they had just witnessed, Fury motions for Maria to open the doors and mutters to her quietly. They slide open after just a fumbled second as the doctor tries to absorb the fact that she has just seen something rare: the bond between a young man and a dark class demon.

Stepping nervously out of the machine, his demon does the same- though with a much more confident and dominant stride as he immediately goes to stand next to the blond. The old soldier watches the screen for a few more minutes as Steve patiently waits, the only sense of everything being okay coming from Maria's warm smile. After what feels like an eternity -but in actual fact is only another minute or so- Fury turns to the blond, and Steve's spine immediately straightens. As if someone had pricked his vertebrate with the point of a needle.

“Do not take my next words lightly,” Fury begins, his eyes thin in an almost scowling-like manner. But in fact, is only the physical appearance of just how serious the old soldier is in that moment. “From what I have just seen, I am certain that your compatibility has reached its maximum percentage for energy transfer.”

“Maximum percentage?” Steve repeats, perplexed.

“Meaning, that your bond can't possibly become any stronger, and it can no longer develop. Even though your bond should not have changed from when we last analysed it, for some reason your bond has continued to become stronger even after stabilising. You've reached the end of the compatibility scale, Steve,” Maria informs him, her ardor penetrating the air around her.

“Wh-” The blond doesn't even have the chance to say anything.

“One-hundred percent compatibility. We assume that this has allowed you to more easily access your demon's abilities, resulting in you being able to manifest two entirely different weapons,” Fury interjects, grabbing the cadet's attention like how a snake would strike at a mouse.

Steve knows that Fury's words are not entirely correct. The blond had only been able to manifest the knife because Bucky himself allowed Steve to be able to manifest the weapon using some of his obscured power. Therefore... the cadet being able to manifest both the shield and the knife, may be less to do with their bond, and more to do with the demon. However, that doesn't stop the blond from feeling completely overwhelmed by one simple fact:

_One-hundred percent compatibility._

The blond is tempted to ask them to confirm it, for he doesn't quite believe it. Just how did the young man end up this way?

Bonded to a demon. A  _dark class_ demon at that. One that is over eight-hundred years old and cannot only control its shadows, but fire  _and_ electricity. A demon that has glorious black wings and a muscular chest and a gentle, yet firm, embrace. A creature that has surely lived through the pain that the Demon War brought upon him. A being with so many secrets, and a forbidden adoration for a certain blond soldier.

“But there isn't a way to test this theory,” Maria interjects, only to be met with Fury's closely drawn brows. “It may also be because your demon is a dark class. We just don't know. Your bond is the first of its kind.”

“In your next manifesting session, create the knife again to make sure that you can use the weapon as effectively as the shield. But I hope that it wasn't just dumb luck that you were able to actually hit that water class,” Fury states, and Steve doesn't exactly know what to say to that, instead, the cadet stands frozen in place as Fury's cold eyes rake over him. “But, I said that I expect great things from you, and you certainly haven't disappointed me, yet.”

“Thank you, sir,” the blond replies automatically.

“Alright, you may leave,”Fury dismisses the blond, who can't help but feel as if he just found a bubble of air while drowning in deep water.

“Sir?” Steve asks just before reaching the open door, Bucky pauses just as the blond halts in place.

“Yes, cadet,” Fury sighs, as if exhausted. Drained of energy as one might be when dealing with something rather stressful. Fury and Steve are similar in the most important way- they both become deeply frustrated when confronted with something that they do not understand.

“How did the water class get in without being detected? If I may ask...”

“Go catch up with your team, Rogers.”

Steve understand precisely what those words mean:  _I don't know._

Giving a curt nod to Fury and Maria, the blond walks out the door with Bucky just a few paces behind him.

“Does this mean that our  _bodies_ are highly compatibly too?” Bucky teases as he leans closer, his breath ghosting the shell of Steve's ear.

“Shh! What if they hear you?” The blond scolds.

“They won't, they are already talking to one another.” Just before they reach the outside world where the sun glimmers more brightly, the demon grins. “And you did not answer my question.”

“Don't ask stupid questions,” the blond replies plainly, trying his best to keep his smile at bay.

“Ah, yes. I shouldn't ask something that we both know the answer to.” Bucky smirks, brushing his knuckles across the skin of the blond's arm.“Or maybe we should see if we can prove that our bodies are-”

“Bucky!” Steve squeals, trying to keep his voice low. The demon merely chuckles in response before becoming silent as the sun hits their skin.

“I would be gentle, you know,” Bucky mutters quietly under his breath, his expression tender as he looks down at the younger man.

“I know,” Steve says back just as softly, before giving the demon a shy glance from the corner of his eye.

“Unless you wanted me to be  _rough,”_ the demon teasingly growls with that devilish grin.

“What did I tell you about saying inappropriate things?” Steve reprimands, trying his best to ignore the remark and how much he blushes from Bucky's words.

“Save it for the bedroom?” Bucky jests, only the tiniest bit serious.

“Ha, funny,” Steve replies sarcastically with a roll of his eyes, but even that can't quite erase his smile.

The blond gets more than a few surprised looks from he team-mates when he and Bucky suddenly appear around the side of the dorm building.

“Where have you been?” Sam questions the smaller man, concern edging its way into his voice.

“Fury asked for me to meet him,” Steve admits.

“What for?” Wanda interjects.

“Was it about what happened yesterday?” Tony quickly asks, stepping to the front of the group as he greets the other cadet.

“Yeah,” the blond replies.

“You're not in trouble, are you?” Sam asks, and Steve immediately shakes his head.

“No, nothing like that. He just wanted to analyse the bond between me and my demon. I guess to see if anything had changed.”

“And? Has anything changed?” Clint eagerly inquires, his eyes bright with curiosity. Steve is hesitant to say anything, but his team-mates watch him with their caring, intrigued gazes.

“The compatibility is, uh, one-hundred percent...”

“One hundred percent? How the  _hell_  did your compatibility increase so much?” Tony exclaims, though far from maliciously, before joking with a smirk. “Tell us your secrets.”

“Wow, that's impressive. The first cadet to ever have one-hundred percent compatibility with their demon... and they're on our team. I think we scored pretty lucky here with Rogers on our side,” Rhodey praises as he pats the blond's shoulder once.

Steve smiles back at his team who make friendly remarks, until Sam convinces them that they really need to start jogging before anyone realises that they're actually behind schedule.

The warm sun upon their sweaty skin is more than a little discouraging during their jogging session, but the cool morning breeze brings some sort of relief to their heated skin. None of the cadets mention Steve's compatibility throughout the day- not even during their manifesting class. As  _Hydra_ join them, Steve notices Lorraine's absence as he hears the gentle mutter of someone informing Wanda that she had left the academy. Carefully unbonded, for luckily their compatibility had been low enough so that she will only need a few months or so in hospital to recuperate, rather than years.

The blond is able to successfully manifest the knife time and time again, and not once, does he miss the target. However, the knife lacks the usual electric sparks that must surely have come with the adrenaline; becoming replaced by small swirls of dark shadows instead. Steve assumes that Bucky has made his electric abilities dormant once more, not that the blond can blame him for doing so.

After that, Steve and a few of the other cadets take refuge in the Knowledge Centre. Researching demon theories that may come up on those surprise tests that Kruger seems to dearly take pleasure in. But, the blond isn't  _really_  concentrating, more like just letting his eyes scan numerous documents without actually taking in the meanings of those many words. Even at dinner and when the cadets gather in the lounge before night disrupts the life of the academy... Steve remains quiet.

Because he can't -no matter how hard he tries- get the dark class off his mind.


	27. Your Shadows Follow My Every Move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Twenty-six:  
> **Steve confronted Bucky about being able to control electricity, and he came to realised that Bucky is a LOT more powerful than anyone believes.  
> **Steve discovered that demons of a certain level can actually make some of the power 'dormant', so that it cannot be detected.  
> **Fury analysed their bond, where he confirmed that their compatibility is 100%.

“Mmm.” Steve presses against the demon's chest, the covers drawn up to their shoulders with Bucky's arms around the blond. “You're so warm.”

The demon chuckles into the younger man's ear, nose breathing in the scent that radiates from those silky strands atop the cadet's head. The November air is chilly, promising the cadets snow without actually living up to the expectation. After working on pronouncing words and the symbols which correlate to them, the bonded pair have settled back into each other's arms as their bodies became bathed in darkness.

Steve hasn't had one of those nightmare-like dreams in a while, instead, his mind is always numb with gentle shadows. As if being soothed by the demon in more ways than the firm hands rubbing along his spine. The blond settles further into the demon's embrace, nose burying into the crook of Bucky's shoulder as his fingers trace over the collar around the demon's throat. The material feels almost rough under the smoothness of his fingertips, akin to leather, its surface disrupted by the little indents where symbols decorate it.

“Doesn't this bother you?” Steve murmurs, nail scratching the rim of the collar.

“At first... After a while it wasn't noticeable anymore,” Bucky admits, leaning to place a kiss atop the blond's forehead.

“I wonder,” the younger man begins, before disregarding the thought entirely.

“Hm? You wonder what?” The demon urges the cadet to continue.

“I was just thinking about what you would look like with normal clothes on. I've only ever seen you in your uniform, I mean, apart from what you came through the gateway in.” Steve tactically leaves out the thought of ~~always~~ often admiring the demon's muscular chest whenever he wears those boxers that (quite frankly) look uncomfortably... _snug._ But surely, the black material that barely rests at the demon's hips doesn't count as clothing?

“Regular human clothing isn't very practical. What need is there to have such variety?” Bucky frowns, nothing but confused by human behaviour.

The demon sees the need for their uniforms: to protect them from mother-nature. From the wind and the rain and the cold, the heat of summer and objects that may otherwise scratch their skin. However, causal clothing that is full of colour or strange patterns or pictures... Bucky most certainly does not understand the need for something so extravagant. To be able to have the luxury of wearing whatever piques your interest, is something foreign to the demon.

However, seeing a certain blond in tight jeans and patterned shirts... the demon is far from opposed to that. When the cadet gets the chance to wear his own clothes like on Halloween or at Christmas, the dark class is all too eager to rake his eyes across the blond's form. For those clothes fit just that little bit better on his petite frame, and make him look almost like a precious jewel in the demon's eyes.

“Clothing can be used to express yourself, to make you feel good,” Steve absent-mindedly explains. The demon merely hums in response, absorbing the lullaby of the younger man's voice rather than the actual words produced. “Bucky?”

“Yes, my little warrior?” The demon's metallic hand traces along the blond's spine, eliciting a slight shiver, which only has the dark class holding onto him tighter.

“Can you show me your true form?”

Bucky pulls back to find those blue eyes that stare up at him in wonder, almost pleading in the shadows of the room.

“My... what?” The demon cocks his head, puzzled.

“Your true form. You know, like your demonic form?” Steve says it questioningly, as if unsure how to describe it himself. But the dark class understands from that nervousness in his tone.

“Alright, then.” Bucky smirks, shifting to hover over the blond. Hands planted firmly either side of the smaller man's head on the pillow; his knees pressed against those sharp hipbones that are exposed from under the cadet's ruffled-up shirt. “If you insist.”

Is Steve a little nervous as to what he may see? Yes, but he is not afraid.

Will he look up and still recognise the demon? The cadet doesn't know.

Could Bucky's true form be a creature who could only ever be made up of darkness? Perhaps.

“I'll tell you when you can look.”

The blond nods before allowing his eyes to fall shut. A heavy breeze dances over him as any lasting light is cut off from sinking through the paleness of the cadet's eyelids. But apart from that, Steve senses no other change in the demon.

Lips briefly press against his own, and the blond slowly opens his eyes, as if unsure if he actually wants to see what looms above him. Silver eyes invade his vision, as do those striking wings, basking him in warmth. But... Bucky looks very much the same.

“I asked to see your true form.”

“This is it.” The demon raises a brow, confused by the cadet's blunt words.

“But its just you... with your wings...” Those black feathers seem to glisten in response to Steve's words, like fragments of jewels almost entirely covered by soft and coarse layers.

“Is there a problem?”

“I-” Steve can't even get the words out, because he is so very bewildered as he struggles to say what it is he wants to.

“Did you expect me to look like a monster?” Bucky accuses, though there isn't a real bite to it.

Steve sighs after a moment, gathering his composure before leaning up to to kiss the demon. Just a peck on the very corner of his mouth before whispering lowly.

“I could never see you as a monster.”

Bucky immediately angles his head to capture those pink lips, fingers finding and encasing the blond's thin wrists to push them next to those silky strands on the rough fabric of the pillow.

“How long have you been this way?” Steve pulls away just enough to question the demon, his lips tingling in protest at the loss of Bucky's.

“Always.”

“Always?” The cadet echoes.

“Yes, I have been this way since I can remember. Though I may have been a lot smaller when I was younger,” the demon reluctantly admits.

“I don't understand... You look so human like this.” Even with the wings and the silver eyes that glow, there is something very... human about the demon. As strange as that may seem to the logic of Steve's mind. Perhaps, it is because emotions that are far from animalistic swirl in the black of Bucky's eyes. Hiding in the very centre, but the blond is very aware of their existence.

“I can assure you, that no part of me is human.” Bucky seems so sure of that fact.

“But you were powerful enough, even when very young, to have this form? To look like this?”

“Mmhm.” Bucky dips his head to nuzzle the blond's throat.

“So, were you born like this? Or created? How does demon mating work? Or do demons even mate? Is there a ritual or-” Steve's (almost) endless list of questions are cut short by Bucky's stern words.

“I think that is enough questions for tonight, my little warrior.”

“But-”

“Steve,” Bucky says more firmly, nipping just above that protruding pulse point.

“You will tell me?” Steve whispers, borderline begging, _pleading_ because he yearns to know of such details that are a part of the demon's world.

“I will tell you everything that you wish to know, but not tonight,” Bucky assures him, smoothing over the reddened patch of skin with a swipe of his tongue- as if caressing the red petal of a rose.

“Hmm, then I suppose that you better kiss me before I ask any more questions.” The blond smiles, eyes full of an innocent lust as he bites his lower lip. Bucky can only chuckle at the younger man's enthusiasm, before doing exactly what the human demands.

It feels _natural._ Kissing Bucky. As if Steve's lips were made to slide against the demon's; to moan and gasp and feel overpowered by none other than Bucky. And even when their kisses are merely soft pecks or only last a few seconds, it still feels so good.

It shouldn't. But it does.

Steve should be disgusted. Not because Bucky is a undeniably male, but because he is a demon who could end his life in less time than it takes to blink.

Steve shouldn't want him. Not because Bucky lacks human morals, but because he is a demon.

Steve shouldn't feel lost without him. Not because under no circumstances should a soldier depend solely on another's existence, but because Bucky is a demon.

Steve shouldn't want _more._ Because Bucky is a demon who he just so happened to bond with.

But Steve does want more. He wants Bucky. Craves him. Yearns for him. Seeks his presence, his touch, his tight embrace. That much is obvious, even the cadet cannot deny that. Not anymore.

However, he can't quite bring himself to say it- that he desires more. That would be foolish and naïve of him, to think that his interactions with the demon could develop into emotions that would last for eternity. Even if it's already happened: long ago, without either of them truly realising it.

Their kiss slows to a gentle stop, the smaller man shifting to curl into the demon who lay beside him. Bucky's left wing stretches over the blond's form, basking the pale blond in its dark warmth; acting almost like a blanket, but definitely as a shield. 

But even as Steve drifts into a deep slumber, Bucky stays awake, listening to the sound of the younger man's heart beating. Steve's sweet scent chases away the thoughts of Bucky's past in the Netherworld, but even then, he doesn't sleep. Rather, he has become focused on a singe goal- of protecting the man in his arms. As he listens to the serene thuds, there is no doubt in the demon's mind, that he would kill anyone who dared to try and end that beautiful rhythm.

        

“I can't wait to go home,” Clint sighs dramatically, head leaning over the back of the couch like how a house cat might stretch.

“Its going to be weird, though. Actually sleeping in a comfortable bed, and not having to wake up at dawn.” Rhodey's eyes seem to light up in a smile at his own words.

“Even if it'll only be for a couple nights,” Bruce solemnly interjects.

Near the beginning of their second year at the academy, the _Avengers_ had appealed to have the upcoming Christmas off. And as if a reward for their hard work, Fury has granted them permission to leave the academy for a few days. Therefore allowing the cadets to spend Christmas with their families. They are all brimming with excitement, eager to see familiar faces in real life, rather than just on a mere screen.

“Better than nothing. With all that's happening with demons actin' strange, I doubt we will be able to have much time off, even after we finish our training,” Sam lectures, brows furrowed with his chin resting upon his knuckles, elbow on the arm of the sofa.

Just a week ago, two high level fire class demons caused mayhem in the city of Cuiabá, burning several close-nit buildings to the ground. One hundred and fifty people died, either in the blaze, or crushed by the walls of the collapsing buildings. Steve had seen the pictures: of the devastated land and of tearful faces.

Although not strictly in the New York Military operating zone, many fully trained soldiers had still been sent out to help deal with the demons. Although they were successful, they had come back with a foul taste in their mouths- that much had been obvious to the war-innocent cadets.

“Well, I'm gonna go pack my stuff,” Tony declares, pushing himself up from the leather couch. His blonde demon perks up at the movement, waiting for Tony's nod before stepping forth.

Most of the cadets have already placed their bonded demons in _containment_ (not the demon-dorms) except for Wanda, Steve and Tony. For although the _Avengers_ could technically take their demons with them -due to the clear control they have grasped- it isn't as if anyone would actually _want_ to bring their demon home for Christmas. Leaving the academy with their demons to go on a mission, and leaving the academy for a couple nights in a civilian area are two very different things. Therefore, most of the cadets will leave their demons in containment until they return from visiting their families.

Steve is very aware of the fact that Tony will be taking his demon with him, even though the smaller man doesn't quite understand who he is planning to see. The blond hasn't asked Tony about his father: whether he is still ill, recovered or worse. But Steve can wholly understand wanting to go back home for a little while, even if there might not be anyone there to greet him. He can only be glad that Tony will at least have some company by bringing his demon along with him.

Wanda, however, will be taking her demon for quite a different reason. Her family comes from a long line of military soldiers, and ever since technology allowed it, many have been bonded to demons. Wanda's relatives lack the fear that Sam's have, and so there is no reason for her not to bring her demon. Especially when members of her family will be present with their own demons- the very existence of such creatures is not a taboo topic, but one which they embrace.

“You haven't packed yet? We're all leaving in the morning, Tony,” Rhodey chides, albeit unsurprisingly a little amused.

An hour goes by, and one by one, the _Avengers_ filter out to rest. Some of them have further to journey than others, and Steve feels lucky that he won't actually have that much travelling to do. All of them will take a truck from the academy to New York, where they will then separate as they eagerly try to get to their families as quickly as physically possible. While some will catch a train to wherever they need to go, Steve will only have to take a thirty minute bus ride to get him into Brooklyn, from there, the walk to his apartment block isn't long.

Legs up against his chest, the blond waits in an awkward silence, for Sam remains sat on the other sofa adjacent to the smaller man. Bucky looms behind Steve, arms across his chest in a gesture of defence. Sam's gaze flickers between the two, before letting out a tired sigh, sinking back into the leather. For a split second, it feels as if a bomb had been defused in the room, allowing the ambiance to settle back down. There's no one else around- not even a single member of _Hydra_ are present. Though that is probably because they are still trying to cope with the loss of two cadets in a very short amount of time.

When you spend a year of being in constant routine with constant faces around you, it can certainly rattle and distort the balance that was once perfected. But like a tree which roots have been pulled, it shifts, and all the tree can do is grow in an effort to make itself stronger in the face of the howling wind.

“Is he going to sit down or what?” The other cadet says bitterly.

Steve can instantly hear a growl vibrate in the demon's chest behind him, but the blond doesn't turn at the sound to scold him.

“He-” The younger man barely gets the word out before Sam interjects with the snarky attitude he seems to have around the dark class.

“So what's his deal? Why not talk? Or is he under the impression that he's better than us?”

“You know that they would do tests on him if he started speaking English. Its safer for him to stay silent,” Steve justifies. Though his words may have been said a little too defensively.

“But he talks to you, though?” Sam's head turns every so slightly to the side as his brow raises in a clear sign of disapproval. “When you're alone.”

“Don't say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like... like its _wrong.”_ Steve can feel a pang in his chest at the very thought.

“It is though, isn't it.” There's not even the slightest chance that his words are a question, as they are very much a statement. As if he is trying to get the blond to realise that what he is doing... that whatever feelings he has ~~for~~ about Bucky, are unnatural and illogical.

Steve is quiet for a long moment after that, gnawing at his bottom lip as his fingers entwine upon his knees. The other cadet doesn't pry an answer from him- he has said what he wanted to say, and he knows very well that Steve is stubborn and no amount of nagging will change the blond's mind. But still, that doesn't mean that Sam can find any peace about the situation that he has discovered his closest friend to be in.

“Can other demons talk?” Sam suddenly enquires, losing his malicious, disapproving tone.

“No, its just him,” Steve lies. The blond doesn't think it is his right to tell someone that demons actually have their own language. An intricate, beautiful language that Steve has found himself fascinated with and captivated by.

“So...” Sam drones, before awkwardly clearing his throat. “You kiss.”

“What?”

“You and your demon.” Sam awkwardly gestures between the two with a wave of his hand.

“Bucky.”

Steve hears his friend mutter something under his breath, and he can only assume that it is an insult to the demon's name- if Bucky's continuing rumbling growl is any indication.

“But, you haven't... with him...” Sam continues before clearing his throat.

“Hmm?”

“Had sex,” he says bluntly. Steve's eyes instantly go wide, a pink blush fluttering across the pale skin of his cheeks with only worsens when Sam pursues his query.“You said you hadn't, but that was five months ago.”

“Nothing's changed,” Steve practically chokes on the words as he says them.

“But you've done other _stuff_ with... _Bucky.”_ Sam says the demon's name with such distaste, that anyone would think he has a personal vendetta against the dark class.

“Sam, I am not going to answer that,” Steve retorts, voice very much defensive.

“You just did.” Sam smirks, giving the blond this _knowing_ look that oozes right into the smaller man's flesh. Before, finally, getting up- stretching out his arms with a sigh as if backing down from a fight. “Anyway, I'm gonna go to bed. I'll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Goodnight, Sam,” the blond says quietly. The other cadet's footsteps are heavy against the floor, as if his exhaustion is being pounded into every thud of his boots.

“Hey, Steve?” Sam pauses at the door to glance at the smaller man over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” The blond shifts in his seat to peer around Bucky to meet his friend's gaze.

“Just... don't get hurt, okay?” Sam's voice is firm, and yet there is a pleading tone underneath that disapproving exterior.

“Okay,” the cadet replies with a smile, blue orbs shining. For perhaps, a little part of Sam is accepting the fact that... Bucky and Steve's relationship is one that is unique.

As soon as Sam's footsteps fade, Bucky leans over the back of the couch to press a single kiss to the top of Steve's head. Lips pressing against silky blond strands that intoxicate the demon with their scent. Steve angles back to stare at the demon, his form relaxing more firmly into the fabric of the sofa, his fingers snaking onto the nape of Bucky's neck.

“Are you excited about leaving the academy tomorrow?” Steve asks with a grin.

“With you? Of course.” The demon grins, his expression nothing but filled with great affection as he kisses the cadet softly again, once upon his forehead as he trails to allow their lips to align. “I would go anywhere if it is with you.”

        

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Steve groans, hand repeatedly patting the edge of the desk until coming across his watch. Settling back against the pillow and the warmth of Bucky's chest, a content sigh leaves the blond's lips. The demon's arms tighten around his waist just that little bit, nose pressed against the soft gold of Steve's hair.

But not even a moment later, the screen of the watch lights up and vibrates in short bursts twice against the desk. Blinking awake, the cadet stretches his hand out to bring the watch closer. Steve frowns, slightly puzzled as to what he sees written across the small screen.

 

_**1 new message.** _

 

The blond taps once at the screen to bring up the message, surprised that it isn't from Sam and confused as to why the message was sent from the academy's headquarters. The watch flashes before Steve squints in the dimness of the room to read the text.

 

_**Due to unique circumstances, please leave your demon in the containment facilities before leaving the academy grounds. You may release your demon upon your return to the academy.** _

 

Steve stares at those black pixel words, his sleepy mind attempting to comprehend them. After a split-second, dread floods through the blond's entire form as he jolts up, rereading the message over and over. Swearing under his breath, Steve is torn between what to do.

Stay with Bucky, and not see the mother who he hasn't hugged in more than a year.

Or go and see his mother, leaving Bucky behind in the containment facilities he despises... and bear with the ache of not having his demon beside him for a few days.

A few days...

Its just a few days, not even worth fretting over. But Steve has always felt apprehensive without the demon's presence- the longest they have been apart is three hours. But, three days... that seems like an awfully long time. Too long, and yet...

“Steve,” Bucky murmurs softly, leaning up next to the blond. The demon's naked chest aligns with the back of Steve's shirt, metallic hand on that sharp hipbone as Bucky plants a kiss upon the cream skin at the nape of Steve's neck.

“Bucky, I-”

“Go see your mother,” the demon tells him, without any hint of resentment or bitterness.

“What about you?” The blond whispers, searching for the demon's gaze. Silver-flecked orbs stare into the blue pools of Steve's eyes, those dark lashes casting a shadow as sunlight begins to illuminate their forms.

“I'll be fine.” The demon plants a kiss to the warmth of Steve's cheek, his sincerity flourishing like flowers in spring through their bond. “I know you want to see her.”

“I do, but-” Steve is interrupted by a gentle whisper.

“Its okay, my little warrior.”

“I don't want to leave you behind,” the cadet confesses, turning to fully face the demon.

“Wear the pendant I gave you,” Bucky hums in reply, though Steve can feel that the demon wishes to say something rather different: _I don't want you to go._

“I will.”

“Don't ever take it off.”

“I promise,” Steve assures him, albeit they both know that the blond doesn't have to be told to wear the talisman. Especially when it will be the only part of the demon with him. As foolish as it may sound, Steve always wants a part of Bucky -even if it is a tiny fragment- with him no matter where he may be. The cadet can not perceive anything more painful than being empty of the demon's presence. Even though their bond may be able to stretch for miles, the demon feels terribly far when Steve is not in his embrace.

After a quiet moment -the kind only shared to fill the space of things unsaid- the cadet pushes himself up from the bed, pondering over to the cool surface of the wardrobe in search of clothes. Hauling his nightshirt over his head to reveal smooth, cream skin, the cadet drops the fabric in front of the chest-of-draws. Hesitating for just a second, the blond proceeds to slip his underwear across the curves of his legs, the demon's heated stare burning and tickling the expanse of his back... and wherever else Bucky's gaze wanders.

A rustle of sheets is the only sign Steve gets until the demon's hands are upon him: chasing and sliding down his sides, only to gently caress over his stomach.

“Are you trying to tempt me, doll?” Bucky drawls, his voice so deep and throaty that it sends a shiver down Steve's spine.

“As if I would try and do that,” the blond teases with a smile.

The demon chuckles at that, slowly freeing the cadet of his touch to allow him to change, but not before leaning down to kiss that spot right below where golden ends tickle the back of Steve's neck. Uttering words of persuasion, the younger man convinces the demon to change into his own uniform, while Steve adorns himself in simple black jeans and a white long-sleeved top. But just as Steve sits on the edge of the bed to tie up his boots, the dark class settles next to him, arm slinking around his waist at he begins to kiss and nip at the pale stretch of Steve's throat.

As if some primal urge is influencing the demon's actions- as if his deepest need to mark the cadet as his own is bubbling to the surface, never truly being able to be extinguished like a flame that refuses to be blown out. Steve giggles at the demon's actions, only to gasp as Bucky's teeth catch his skin sharply. ~~As if...~~ To mark him.

Even as Steve brushes his teeth in the bathroom, Bucky continues to pester him with little kisses across his face and throat- not able to utter a single word to tell the demon to stop. Right up until the exact moment the cadet shrugs into his grey jacket, where the dark class then slips the pendant over the younger man's head as Steve simultaneously places his journal into a small backpack. Apart from the journal, the bag only contains the cadet's wallet- to say Steve will be travelling light would be a vast understatement.

Sliding the pendant under the fabric of his shirt, the cadet's palm rests against the bump upon his chest from the amulet. The demon's hands find his waist once more, not tugging him closer, but the blond still seems to gravitate back against Bucky's firm chest.

“We need to go...” Steve whispers, neck arching instinctively as the demon nuzzles at the shell of his ear.

“Just one more minute,” Bucky murmurs.

How could Steve possibly resist?

In truth, he cannot. No matter the circumstances, when the demon is so gentle with his embrace and soft with his words... when the younger man is practically drowning in their entangled auras... Steve cannot find it within himself to resist the demon.

Steve gradually breaks from the demon's hold, slinging his bag over one shoulder and turning (albeit a little reluctantly) to the door. Bucky obediently follows after him, his demeanour calm until Sam steps out of his own room.

“Ah, hey,” Steve greets the other cadet. “I'll meet you at the entrance to the academy?”

“Sure. But, where are you going?” Sam asks with a frown, eyes darting between the bonded pair. Almost as if he is criticizing the smaller man as much as the demon.

“Containment,” the blond says simply. “I'll explain later.”

Sam doesn't comment on it, but watches the pair leave- although he turns his gaze away as soon as the demon casts an icy glance at him before descending down the stairwell.

The walk to containment goes too quickly. Before Steve even realises it, scanners trace across his form and the metal door screeches open. Thoughts spin through Steve's mind, not quite being fully comprehended before being discarded. The blond doesn't know what to say to get the demon to perceive the utter dread and the pain Steve feels at having to leave Bucky behind.

Like a tree that yearns for water, or a bird which desires to fly. Like a vast ocean with no land to surround, or the sky without a single star...

There is something that aches with an emptiness.

Deep inside the human's core and spreading throughout each and every one of his cells.

Just the thought of not having the demon beside him- that sensation floods through him all over again.

That _dread..._

That _ache..._

That _fear._

Bucky steps just barely into the doorway, facing the blond rather than the empty, grey room. Both of them with the knowledge that the demon could easily escape, like air from the grasp of bony fingers.

Steve stands there, his body unmoving as he stares at the demon; completely at a loss as to what he should do. To just walk away doesn't seem right, and to only say goodbye doesn't seem enough. But at the same time, to do more than either of those things... would that be appropriate? In what way does one leave someone, when one doesn't entirely understand the relationship one has with that person?

Fortunately for the cadet, the demon decides for him.

With one hand swiftly guiding the blond's plump lips from under the chin, and one planted at the base of his spine, the demon pulls him close enough to kiss him. Close enough with so much fervour, so much passion, that Steve struggles to breathe. A nip at the blond's bottom lip has him gasping, eyes hazy with lust and body throbbing with a growing hunger that Steve only ever feels when the demon kisses him.

The human could suffocate in that moment, with Bucky lips moving against his own, and he would find it a rather peaceful way to die at the demon's hands. But after deepening the kiss just that fraction more, the dark class pulls back.

Breathless, the human can only watch as Bucky steps into the centre of the containment room, giving one last confirming nod to the cadet. Steve's hand glides to the lock mechanism by the door, the metallic slide shifting into place until the bonded pair can no longer see one another.

It feels like eternity has passed before Steve finally manages to turn away, a bad taste in his mouth as if filling with guilt and regret. There's that distinct ache in his chest and sickly sensation in his stomach. Even as he strolls to the entrance of the academy, there is a weight on his shoulders that is only ever-so-slightly eased by the flutter of excitement about being able to see his mother.

The ground is icy beneath his feet, frosted by morning dew and crunching under the boots of soldiers walking by. As Steve reaches the _Avengers_ who gather next to a truck, the blond is taken by surprise by the two demons out of their uniform. Both Tony's and Wanda's demons are dressed in black hoodies (to conceal the sleek collars wrapped around their throats) and black jeans that stretch into their academy issued boots.

But, of course, Steve shouldn't have expected anything different. If the demons were allowed to wander into society adorned in their uniforms, they would surely disturb and frighten civilians. Disguised as any other human, the demons can follow their bonded humans without upsetting the city's balance. Their collars mean that they won't disrupt any demon tech dotted upon each and every road and pathway.

The drive to the centre of New York takes just under an hour with heavy traffic from morning workers desperately trying to get to their jobs. The cadets chat amongst themselves, their eager thoughts of seeing their families dominating conversation. Steve notices the content quietness Tony seems to have next to his demon, but chooses to not utter a single word to the other cadet. Sam whispers the question of why Steve took Bucky to containment, and in reply, the blond shows his friend the message on his watch.

The academy clearly doesn't want to take any risks where the dark class is concerned, even if Steve has control of the demon.

Although the cadet can't stop himself from thinking: _am I in control?_

Honestly, the small, blond warrior has far more control over the demon than any human could even wish to have.

The vehicle jolts to a stop, the engine dying to reveal the sounds of car horns, people babbling on the side walks, and the echo of sirens in the distance. Within minutes the cadets are taking in the sights of New York- of the tall buildings, neon lights and fluttering billboards, and cigarette cluttered paths. Most of the _Avengers_ go to the nearby train station, needing to travel far further than the seemingly endless, bustling city of New York.

Only three of them are left behind (excluding Tony's demon) to be overwhelmed by passing businessmen in neat suits and young students with cheap coffee cups tight in their grasps.

“Do you live in New York?” Steve asks, curiosity getting the better of him when Tony and his demon remain by the road. The army truck roaring back up and diving back into the traffic queues.

“Yeah, I don't live too far from here, so I was just going to get a taxi,” the dark haired cadet explains. “I assume you both live nearby too?”

“Brooklyn for me, Sam's family is in Harlem.”

“Well, I'll see you both in a couple days, then?” Tony says enthusiastically, almost as if he can't wait to leave the other two cadets. Steve isn't sure if the blonde demon has anything to do with that.

“Bye, Tony.” Steve waves the other cadet off as Sam mumbles a goodbye.

It is only a few minutes walk to the bus station, even with the occasional person stumbling into them due to being too busy on their phone. But, these people, from the young and old, to the rich and poor, the ignorant and the intelligent... Steve has vowed to defend them all.

The station is packed with bodies, frantically buying tickets or hurrying to their coach. The two walk together to the courtyard where the buses wait in tidy rows, their surroundings feeling foreign to them- they have gotten far too used to academy life.

“Well, my bus is over there.” Sam gestures the far side with a tilt of his head. “Say hi to your mom for me.”

“I will.” Steve smiles warmly, before saying teasingly, “hug your siblings for me.”

“Sure, if they haven't driven me mad before I get a chance to walk through the door.”

They both laugh at that, and the blond begins to feel a little more at ease. With one last, tight hug, the pair go their separate ways, both excited for what is yet to come. There are still a few seats left on the bus to Brooklyn, and Steve shows his military ID card to the driver before sitting by one of the windows. Buildings and lifeforms seem to pass by quicker the further they get into Brooklyn, the traffic slowly dying down until only the occasional car or taxi drives by.

Barely thirty minutes later, the vehicle is coming to a steady stop, and Steve swiftly jumps off and immediately begins to head down the long street. It isn't the nicest nor prettiest part of New York, but it is home. Old-fashioned brick buildings and infrequent metallic-glass hotels line the grey pathways while small shops intermittently overlook the corners of avenues. There are cracks in the side-walk and fragments of half-frozen litter every so often. The blond spots a man taking refuge from the cool wind in a darkened alley, woollen hat and scarf protecting his face while his rag-like coat wraps around his body. A black cat sits atop a red-brick wall, observing its surroundings as if nonchalantly watching the world go by.

Its peaceful, in its own unique way. Or at least the cadet thinks so. There's just something about it that makes him ooze with composure and serenity. Although there is still a nagging feeling within him. As if a spider is crawling and spinning webs around his beating heart.

A small florist window display catches Steve's attention on the other side of the road, its bright roses and vibrant bouquets decorated with delicate ribbons brightening the street. The blond instantly crosses the road, ducking into the shop with the ring of a bell above him. Almost overcrowded with flowers, Steve isn't quite sure where to look first. An older man (most likely in his sixties the cadet guesses) comes out from between a bead curtain and offers to help the cadet. Within minutes, the blond is walking out with a few pure white gardenia flowers; their stems tied together with a thin, silky bow. It was all Steve could afford, but the man had seemed delighted anyway, and the cadet is sure that his mother will like them.

Around the tight bend in the road, Steve stumbles upon his apartment block- all of it still ten stories of dirty brick walls, small windows and unkept hedges at the very front. There isn't a single person at reception as the blond takes the stairs up to the sixth floor. While the lift does technically work, it is often temperamental and Steve doesn't particularly fancy spending most of Christmas Eve stuck in an elevator. The cadet wanders down the corridor until he reaches his door, digging deep into his wallet in search of a rusted, silver key to unlock it. The apartment is quiet, almost silent except from the tick of the clock on the mantle piece.

Locking the door behind him, the cadet walks past hanging coats and a set of keys attached to a screw upon the wall. To Steve's immediate right is the lounge, consisting of a two seater sofa and a chipped wooden coffee table. Opposite the couch against the wall is the mantelpiece, above a bare strip of wall where there would have once been a fire place. Half embedded into the wall, over the mantelpiece, is a thin screen that flickers in its fuzzy attempt to display the morning's news. A small symbol in the corner of the television signals it being on mute, probably as to not disturb the sleeping form nestled on the sofa.

Directly ahead, is a dining table big enough to seat four individuals by a large window. To the left of that, is a tiny kitchenette, with a marble island to separate the kitchen from the rest of the apartment. Between the living room and the dining area, is a short hallway that contains three doors. Straight ahead leads to the bathroom, while the two others act as entrances to the bedrooms.

It isn't much, but its certainly more than what some have, and Steve is more than happy to call it home.

Dropping his bag with a light thud against the cool flooring, the blond kneels down beside his mother, placing a gentle hand upon her shoulder.

“Ma,” Steve gently calls to her. Pale eyelids slowly open to reveal tired, blue orbs. But within seconds, as realisation crosses her face, those eyes seem to brighten in joy.

“Steve,” his mother coos softly, sitting up to wrap the cadet in her arms in an urgent-like manner. As if the future soldier is a life-line, or perhaps, something she can't bear to lose. Sarah isn't that much taller than the cadet, but it is still a big enough difference to make Steve feel small and safe against her

Steve sighs into the warm embrace, her slim physique feeling strange in his hold. There isn't any telling how long she has been back from work, but the blond doubts that it has even been a few hours.

“I've missed you so much, sweetheart,” Sarah confesses, pulling back to plant her hands atop the cadet's shoulders.

“I've missed you too.” Steve smiles -almost too caught up in their reunion to remember the flowers- before suddenly offering her the bouquet. “Merry Christmas, Ma. I know its a day early...”

“Oh, Steve. They're lovely,” Sarah beams, taking the flowers and bringing them up to her nose to smell their fresh fragrance. The blond watches her carefully wobble to a stand as she quickly goes in search of a vase. “I must say that I am relieved, you look really well,” she admits, placing the container on the dining table.

“I told you not to worry about me,” Steve says sympathetically.

“Ah, but I do, sweetheart.”

How can she possibly not worry?

When her only son is wandering down such a dangerous path.

Of course, that path is one that needs to be walked, but still, the path has taken lives before. And it will continue to take lives. Again and again. No being can ever be an exception to this. It is almost like a rule, interlinked with the probability that you may fall victim to it.

However (not that Sarah is aware of this) the cadet is not following the path alone.

There is a darkness that surrounds him, like protective shadows defending him. Black and untameable, and yet so reliable in its one goal. An instinct that must be obeyed. An instinct that cannot possibly be controlled. Those shadows... they will move as the cadet does. Because that darkness has a mind of its own, an intelligence like no other, regardless of its impulses.


	28. Your Darkness Cannot Ever Be Contained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Twenty-seven:  
> **Bucky confessed that he has looked human for a very long time.  
> **The Avengers were able to get Christmas off, and they all travelled back home to their families- although Steve was not able to take Bucky with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments on the previous chapter, I read them all and appreciate every single one!!! Although I didn't reply to all of them, as I felt like I would accidentally spoil the contents of this chapter haha
> 
> Also, yesterday this story reached over 1000 kudos!!! I could not be more thrilled with the response this story has gotten. Honestly, I wasn't even sure this story would reach 100 kudos when I first uploaded it, and here we are at over 1000. Wow, thank you all! I cannot possibly begin to express my gratitude. 
> 
> To celebrate, I will be posting a quick drawing of our favourite pair on the IG & Tumblr accounts this weekend after I add some final details! By no means is the drawing good haha, but it is more NSFW than the last one and I had fun sketching it, so if you would like to see it just keep an eye on those accounts.:)  
> https://www.instagram.com/thedemonbond/  
> https://thedemonbond.tumblr.com

“Why don't you go put your things in your room while I make some tea?” Sarah suggests, already taking two mugs out of the cupboard and switching the kettle on.

“That sounds great, Ma. Thank you,” Steve replies, bending over to collect his bag before trailing down the hallway. The cadet opens the first white door to his right, not the least bit surprised that it looks exactly like how he had left it.

On the left protrudes a grey-linen bed, a little bigger than a single, and certainly luxurious compared to the academy beds. The wooden headboard rests against the center of the wall, opposite a large wooden wardrobe with inbuilt draws at the bottom. But, straight on is where Steve has spent many nights at, hunched over and sleep-deprived: his wooden desk, complete with a silver lamp that surely needs its bulb changing. The desk sits under a window that looks out at the creaky fire-escape stairs and the alley which they lead to.

The cadet places his bag at the end of the bed as he traipses to the window, jolting the stiff lock to open it, allowing cool air inside the room. The clouds above are tinged a darkening silver with the burden of a storm brewing in the air.

A place has never felt more like home.

Even if the sensation of something missing never truly vanishes.

But at dinner, even without the demon by his side, Steve is somewhat content with his mother's company. He has missed her, more than the blond had realised. She bombards him with questions about Sam and the academy, and Steve informs her about the other cadets in his team, and about Fury and Erskine, as well as Kruger.

“What's your demon like?” Sarah asks, inquisitively, but also on the border of not wanting to know.

“Hm?”

“Your demon,” his mother repeats simply. “Male or female?”

“Uhh, male,” Steve stutters.

“And its class?”

The cadet pauses all movement, before putting down his fork to look into his mother's eyes- full of wonder like his own. But, very are also very different: they contain a fear that is not present even in the depths of Steve's irises.

“He's... he's a dark class demon, Ma.”

“A dark class? That's-” Sarah coughs once into her hand, eyes turning to her plate. “That's... Your father would be very proud of you, bonding with such a rare demon.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Not at all.” Sarah suddenly stands, collecting their dishes. “I'll go get the dessert.”

“Do you want me to wash up?” The cadet asks, watching his mother scurry into the kitchen.

“That's alright, Steve. I'm just going to leave them in the sink to soak.”

“Okay...” The blond patiently waits for his mother to return with two bowls of ice cream. The dessert is cool against Steve's tongue, melting in his mouth much like how winter fades when the sun burns more brightly. The cadet recalls the memories of his childhood, sat at the table and making sure that he eats all of his dinner just so he can have a taste of the sweet, icy treat.

Steve has had many good memories in this apartment, his childhood being relativity full of joys despite being so ill. His mother's love for him has kept him alive; allowed him to live when the medicine only kept his heart beating and his lungs expanding. Now, as images of his past flash by, the blond wonders what Bucky's childhood was like. Or if he even had one at all. Does Bucky have a mother who loves him? Or has he been alone and left to fend for himself for every second that he has been alive?

There is certainly still a lot for Steve to learn about his demon.

But, later that night, instead of worrying about Bucky's past, the blond becomes obsessed with the lonely ache in his chest. The cadet is missing the demon dearly. It is almost as if he had left a part of himself behind at the academy. He longs for the demon's presence, his gentle touch and his teasing words. Steve craves all of Bucky. For a moment, the blond reflects on that. Perhaps it is not that Steve doesn't know what his feelings for Bucky are, but that he can't bring himself to admit them by saying them out loud.

The howling of the wind echoes eerily though the alley, disturbing the curtains that are drawn above the desk. The room is bathed in black: no artificial lights or the moon's rays are yet able to sneak through the darkness of the alley into the blond's room. But even though it is the dead of night, and the wind doesn't truly unnerve the cadet, he still finds himself tossing and turning. The pendant sliding against his chest with each movement, the cadet just feels more unable to sleep with each passing second.

Letting out a deep sigh, the cadet shifts onto his side, half expecting a warm body to align with his back. He can't help but be disappointed when only the blanket presses against him. Steve closes his eyes, albeit that does nothing to make even a fragment of his being wish to fall asleep.

After a while, Steve's body begins to relax. Finally lulling into a somewhat sleepy state, his heart beat slowing as his breathing becomes lighter. Mind slowly turning numb, his thoughts dissolving one by one. Yet... for some reason Steve cannot explain, he becomes compelled to look into the darkness of the room. His eyes blindly trail from the door to the foot of his bed.

His heart almost stops beating altogether when his gaze finds a set of blue eyes watching him from the shadows of the room.

Startled by those piercing eyes, fear floods throughout him as he fumbles to quickly switch the bedside lamp on. An empty glass is knocked over in his haste, hand shaking until the room becomes illuminated by the orange light. Steve turns back towards those blue eyes, only to realise they have silver-flecks throughout them as he his met with a very familiar, demonic form.

“Bucky!” Steve exclaims, eyes wide and mouth agape before seemingly snapping out of his disbelief. “What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

The cadet should probably ask _'how are you here' ,_ for he knows that Bucky could have easily gotten out of containment, but to find him so far from the academy... Steve does wonder how the demon found him.

That, and... the demon should not have been able to go undetected. The demon tech that envelops New York and weaves between every building, it should have realised that such a dangerous demon was roaming the streets, and is now residing within a civilian apartment. Yet, there are no alarm bells or warning lights flashing outside, just the rustle of the wind scraping rubbish across the tarmac roads.

“I wanted to see you,” Bucky says earnestly. The demon stays rooted where he stands, not stepping closer, but certainly not leaving. Not when the person he yearns for is right in front of him.

Oh...Bucky has missed that sweet scent.

The whole room -even if its just ever so faintly- smells of Steve. It lacks the stench of mould, allowing the younger man's scent to permeate the air without being altered by other odours. Its pure and tastes like sugar in the back of the demon's mouth as the dark class takes in the thin orange mist of Steve's aura as it entangles the blond.

“How did you- nevermind. You need to go back! What if they notice you are gone?” Steve's voice is almost a whisper, for the reality that it is the middle of the night and that his mother could very well hear them registers with the blond.

“They wont, I've made sure of that.”

“What did you do?” Steve frowns, disproving.

The demon merely stares in response, arms folded as if patiently waiting. Steve is just as quiet in return as he finds himself staring into those silver-flecked orbs, and the blond can depict the _need_ in them. The cadet sighs softly, the deafening silence between them too much as he finally utters:

“I missed you.”

As if those three words are permission, the demon swiftly steps around the bed to greet the blond. Steve's arms instantly slip around the demon's neck to bring him ever so closer as Bucky arches forward to press their lips together. It's messy and unsynchronised, full of gasps and bitten-back moans as Bucky gently coerces Steve onto his back against the mattress.

There's a brief struggle as the blond attempts to haul Bucky's shirt over his head, which only ends in the demon's low laughter as he helps the younger man. The cadet ignores the demon's amusement, pulling him back not even a second later to align their lips once more. Bucky gladly allows their kiss to resume, breathing in the blond's whiny moans that break free from his throat. The demon's hands slide across the blond's form, gliding under the hem of his shirt to feel the warm, silky skin underneath, nudging the edge of the pendant. Bucky's palm rubs against the younger man's chest in smooth motions; sliding over his ribs, his stomach, the curve of his waist to just barely reach his back. Only to press against those sharp hipbones and back over his stomach and up until his fingertips caress the bump of his collarbone.

Everywhere Bucky touches leaves heated prints under his skin, the pale surface becoming tainted with the lightest blush. A growl resonates in the demon's chest as the blond eagerly aids him in removing the rest of his clothing, all except from the black underwear that Steve is tempted to discard, but chooses not to. The younger man just wants to feel the demon against him- it is an intimate desire, but far from sexual.

Steve doesn't have to ask for help with the ridding of his own clothing, for the demon's fingers catch and tug at the hem of his shorts, pulling them over his briefs and along the arches of his legs. After that, all it takes is the demon's impatience to break their kiss for a mere few seconds as he pulls at Steve's shirt until is rests in an abandoned pile on the floor.

Steve can't quite believe it- that Bucky is here, with him, right now, in his own home. It seems almost like a dream, for his body feels light under the demon's firm touch. But Steve knows this is real: the sensation of their bond vibrating, humming and throbbing between them is something that can only ever be felt when the blond is awake.

Desperate, and overcome by a confidence that the demon has only witnessed in short bursts, the blond presses up against the demon's chest. Bucky permits him to guide the demon forcefully onto his back, the bed creaking with the harsh change. Steve's leg slides over the demon's body to straddle his hips, back arched as he cups Bucky's face within his palms. The pendant dangles between them, cord twisted ever so slightly.

The blond finds himself moaning into their kiss as the demon's metallic hand traces down his spine, sensors picking up each bump and every tiny hair. Bucky's other hand rests at the curve of the younger man's thigh, the feel of his body under his touch anchoring the demon as much as the kiss does.

Steve hadn't realised just how much his body aches for this: the feel of electricity coursing throughout him as an unchaste warmth pools and trickles to his inner thighs, his heart beating erratically as his mind becomes filled with nothing but the thought of Bucky's body pressing against his own. It shouldn't feel so good, but it does. And the blond isn't quite sure how to contain his own desires. However, the demon is more than willing to indulge the younger man in whatever he asks for. Especially with such round, blue orbs that beckon and _beg_ the demon.

Fortunately for them both, they want the same thing.

And exactly what is that? It is each other.

It's something rather simple- for one to desire another being.

To want to hold that person in one's arms as their voice becomes a secret lullaby. To want to reach ecstasy with them and laugh with them, cry with them. To want to care for them and be cared for by them. To want to stay by each other's side and live through the vast adventure that is life together. These are rather simple things to wish for, and the desire to be as a whole with another being... there is no greater yearning than that.

It is merely the circumstance of that desperate want, that becomes an obstacle to deny those simple desires. For Steve and Bucky, the circumstance that denies them is the the world around them. Or more accurately, the two opposing worlds which they originate.

~~This is wrong.~~

This is right.

This. Is. _Right._

Steve can no longer bring himself to accept the fact that he shouldn't yearn for the demon in such a way. And yet-

The younger man moans, gently pulling away with a gasp and a wet smack of their lips. His breaths are heavy, deep, practically panting for air and... the blond feels so _alive._ Bucky's hands on his waist encourage him to sit upon the demon's hips more firmly; the bare skin of Steve's thighs becoming warmer as they rest against the demon's sides. The cadet's hands slip to press upon Bucky's steadily rising chest, his own body shaking just enough for the demon to notice. Steve gazes into those silver-flecked orbs, darkened with lust as their bond thumps in a rhythmic, but fast beat between them.

-he still cannot find it in himself to voice and put a name to his feelings.

“You shouldn't be here...” Steve mutters.

“Do you want me to leave?” The demon asks in return, hands sliding down from the blond's hips to rest at the top of his thighs.

“No,” the younger man breathes, his words uttered on a mere exhale. “Don't leave.”

“Then I'll stay right here beside you.” ~~_I promise._~~

“You need to be quiet, though.”

“In-case your mother hears us?” Bucky smirks, teasing.

“Don't get any ideas,” Steve scolds... albeit he may be grinning a little too.

The demon relaxes against the pillow, the tension in his body visibly fading as his hands caress along the sides of Steve's thighs. In that moment, even the dark class does not register the groans of the wind outside- they are so focused on each other, that it is almost as if they are the only two beings in an otherwise desolate world. Bucky's aura unknowingly surrounds them, creeping into every crevice of the room, thickening even the most darkest of shadows around them. Invisibly marking the cadet's form so that only tiny flecks of amber leek through the darkness.

But Steve is just as relaxed in the demon's presence. The ache in his chest has been replaced by a purr-like humming, the bitterness in his mouth overtaken by an addicting sweetness, and his fingertips are no longer distracted, but finally content with being placed upon the demon's heated, scarred skin.

After a silent moment, Steve leans down to press a small kiss to those inviting lips, before shifting his body to rest along the demon's. Bucky's arms immediately open up for the blond and wrap around him as those silky locks nuzzle into the crook of the demon's shoulder.

“How did you find me?” The blond questions quietly.

“I tracked you through the pendant,” Bucky replies, his voice just as hushed as the cadet's.

Although it is true that the demon tracked him using the pendant, Bucky could have just as easily found him by sensing out his aura or by following the pulsations of their bond.

“The pendant?”

“Mmm, because I activated the pendant, I can sense where it is. No matter how far away.”

The cadet can't help but feel as if there is something missing from Bucky's words, or perhaps, the demon intends to say something entirely different:

_'I can sense you, no matter how far apart we become'._

_'We are connected, you are a part of me, so I will always search for you'._

Steve can only hope that Bucky wants to say these things, and the idea that the demon could find him even if he was on the other side of the world is far from unsettling, but comforting. As if no matter what, Bucky will protect him, just as fiercely as he will protect the demon.

“I'm glad that you found me...” Steve says hesitantly after a moment.

“Me too.” The demon presses a kiss to those soft, blond strands, fingers raking and kneading through them. The action not only soothing the human, but the demon too. Eradicating any lasting worrisome thoughts, and replacing them with a sense of ease. Steve feels... almost _renewed._ Like when a heavy rain storm replenishes the water from an earth-cracked lake.

“I've never felt like this before,” the younger man confesses, his voice barely loud enough to be a whisper. Heart thudding in his ears as he waits for the demon's reply.

“Nor have I.”

Those words fill Steve with relief- for not only are these feelings new to himself, they are also foreign to the demon. Why exactly that gives the younger man comfort is hard to define, but it lays on the foundation they that can explore the complexity and uncertainty of their relationship together. To explore the unknown as a single unit -as one and the same- for they are both as confused and yet unwavering as each other.

The bedside light flickers off, and the blond is sure that Bucky used his power to do that, though he doesn't question the demon on it. Just accepts it as his eyelids become heavier, wrapped in the warmth of the dark class and his shadows rather than the blanket. At last, the cadet manages to fall asleep, even with the wind battering against the window.

He dreams only of feathered darkness, and silver-flecked eyes.

        

The morning light creeps in through the slit in the curtains, illuminating the faces of two very still forms nestled against each other. A small groan leaves the blond's lips as he awakens, breath ghosting the demon's skin as his eyes squint in the light of the room.

“Morning, my little warrior,” Bucky chuckles at the stirring cadet.

“Mmm, morning... Do you know what time it is?” Steve mumbles.

“Past eight.”

The younger man hums in reply, much to the demon's amusement, as he then settles more firmly against the dark class. His eyelids droop back closed as he breathes in the demon's musky, earthy scent. The kind of smell like when a forest is caught up in a torrential storm. Steve finds it nothing but reassuring and it makes his whole body warm- as if tiny flames are dancing throughout him.

Just before the cadet lulls back to sleep, a sudden clang startles him. It takes a moment until Steve realises that it is the sound of a metallic pan battering against the work-surface of the kitchen. The fact that they are no longer at the academy, but in Steve's own home seems to finally register with the blond. Freeing himself from the demon's embrace, the younger man swears under his breath as he stumbles out of the bed, “fuck. Stay here, okay? I can't let her see you.” Steve quickly hauls on a plain grey, long-sleeved top, shuffling into black sweatpants.When the blond reaches the door, he pauses, his hand still hovering over the knob as he turns to the demon. “Oh, and Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?” The dark class smirks, arms stretching to rest under his head upon the pillow.

“Merry Christmas.” Steve grins, before opening the door and sliding out from view. The cadet makes sure that it is shut securely before sauntering down the hallway to where the smell of eggs frying and meat cooking become thicker against Steve's taste buds.

“Oh, good morning, sweetheart. Merry Christmas, breakfast is almost ready,” Sarah says as she spots Steve approaching. “Did you sleep well? I didn't wake you up as I thought you might want to sleep in.”

“Merry Christmas, Ma. I slept well, thank you,” Steve informs her as he takes a seat at the dining table. Though his well rested state certainly isn't due to the familiarity and homeyness of his room. But, rather, a familiar presence that had held him close throughout the night.

Sarah hurries over with two ceramic plates, placing one in front of the cadet before sitting down with her own. They both tuck into the warm food, a vast contrast to the apartment that seems to have gotten colder. Though the lack of heating in the building and the icy paths outside don't make that at all surprising.

“It's so nice being able to spend Christmas together this year,” his mother declares. The grey under her eyes has seemed to disappear, her hair more vibrant and lively with the new day.

Steve can only be grateful for that; the amount of work shifts Sarah does often worries him. She is one of the main nurses at the local hospital, and the cadet completely understands how vital she is to their team. But when he sees her run down and _exhausted..._ He wishes that the hospital wouldn't demand so much from her, even if Sarah is never one to complain. Especially where helping others is concerned.

“Yeah, its not quite the same at the academy,” the cadet confesses. Although that is not to say that he hadn't enjoyed spending Christmas with the other cadets, and perhaps more importantly, his own demon.

“You will try to come home often, won't you?”

“Of course, I'll come as often as I can,” the blond says in reply to his mother's implored words.

“I didn't see much of your father while he was training in the military, I don't want the same thing to happen with you,” Sarah explains, her tone almost pleading and _desperate,_ and it pulls at the strings of guilt in the cadet's mind.

“It won't, I promise.”

“Just... don't bring your demon here.”

“What?” Steve almost chokes on his food as he looks up at his mother with a startled expression.

“I know some soldiers do that, and... I don't mean to be rude but its not right. Bringing those creatures into their homes. It's disgusting. They are nothing but monsters, they don't belong here. And they certainly do not belong in our homes.” There is an anger to her words, or perhaps, her tone is still left with the lingers of grief.

“I- uh, yeah... I won't bring my demon here.” Steve understands where her beliefs lie, and there are certainly many good reasons for the foundation of his mother's fear and loathing of demons. But the cadet has seen a new side to such creatures that his mother has not. The future soldier's opinion of demons has matured with his experience at the academy; now he no longer only holds a desire to find out more about demons, but a yearning to become a part of their world.

“I don't mean to sound rash. But one of those things killed your father. And I just don't know if I could handle one of them being under the same roof as us,” she says apologetically.

Steve is at a loss for words. It feels as if a pair of fists have taken hold of his lungs, squeezing them until he struggles for breath and his heart begins its deafening song in his ears. The cadet is sure that Bucky can hear them, in actual fact, he could bet on it and win. The blond can only hope that Bucky doesn't take any offence to his mother's words, for the demon can't possibly understand what their family has been through.

“Oh! That reminds me,” Sarah suddenly exclaims, her demeanour changing as if they hadn't just been talking about demons and death. She disappears down the hallway, her bedroom door opening and closing and after a few seconds she returns. “I've got your Christmas present here.”

“You didn't have to.” Steve smiles as he takes the silver-wrapped gift from her.

“I wanted to. And besides, it wasn't that expensive.” Sarah returns his gleeful smile as she collects their plates.

The wrapping of the rectangular present reflects the blond's face in its shiny surface, smooth under his fingertips are he tears the corner. Steve instantly knows what it is as soon as his eyes meet deep, blue leather fabric. As the blond peels the paper off, his eyes are surely that of a child's: containing nothing but wonder, eagerness and delight.

“Ma...” Steve says softly as he takes in the sight of the leather-bound journal. The edges are hardened, the material smooth just like his father's. However, the paper inside is pure white rather than a faded yellow, the pages blank and beckoning to the blond.

“I thought you might like to have your own.”

Sarah Rogers has never once approved of her son joining the military, but that is not to say that she hasn't been continuously supportive. She knows that understanding demons is important, even if she herself cannot understand the desire to want to understand them on such an intricate and complex level. But like his father, Steve wants to swarm himself with knowledge at an almost _obsessive_ level, and Sarah has accepted that.

“Thank you, this is great,” Steve thanks her with sheer sincerity. But before his mother can give any sort of reply, a loud _beep beep beep_ rings in their ears. Steve instantly feels his face fall at the familiar alarm.

Sarah pulls the thin pager from her pocket, and the cadet isn't even slightly surprised that she carries it with her everywhere. Her work is a part of her, and it would be selfish and naïve to expect anything different.

“I'm so sorry, Steve. There's an emergency at the hospital.”

“If you need to go, you can. I'll still be here when you get back,” Steve assures her.

“I'll try and get home for dinner,” she calls out as she ducks into her room to grab her uniform.

“That's okay, don't worry about it, Ma.” Steve watches her as she paces across the apartment, slipping into her coat and her thick boots, scarf neatly swung along her shoulders. A quick exchange of rushed goodbyes and then Sarah is locking the door behind her. The cadet gets up to stand at the window, and soon he can perceive his mother hurriedly walking over the ice-encased road before vanishing behind the street corner. The sky outside is grey and dim, enticing children with a vow to bring snow which may never actually fall. At least not today.

“This is your home,” a deep voice says from behind the blond.

Steve turns to find the demon emerging from the corridor, clad only in boxers as he surveys the room. The light above them illuminates the demon's muscular form, enveloping his scarred, taut skin in an amber hue. A low hum emits from the demon, almost like a purr of contentment as his eyes cast upon the blond.

“Do you like it?” Steve inquires with a nervous smile, fingers playing with edges of the journal in his grasp.

“It is your home, of course I like it.” Bucky returns the smile. The apartment has a warmth to it unlike anything else the demon has experienced. The kind of warmth filled with the essence of someone you hold dear. Sparks and flickers of Steve's being cover each room, regardless of the fact that the blond hasn't been home in over a year. It soothes the demon, makes him less alert and calms his body into a state of comfort.

“What's your home like?”

“Its... not like this,” the demon reveals, composed as he takes in the picture frames dotted along the sides of the room. The vase of white flowers smell fresh, lingering with the blond's scent intermixed with his mother's. An old computer situated near the sofa has grey spots of dust collecting at its edges, while the screen contains lines across it from where it had been attempted to be wiped clean in a rush.

“In what way?”

“I've never had somewhere that I have called _katite.”_

“Kah-ty-teh? Does that mean home?”

The demon hums once in response, stepping closer to the younger man although his eyes still flick across the room whenever something interesting attracts his attention. Steve doesn't ask anymore questions, in fear that it may be a topic that isn't supposed to be touched upon. But the demon continues to uncover little pieces of his past as those piercing eyes stare out the window at a passing flock of birds above them. The crows are like a black-feathered swarm as they search for somewhere to take shelter.

“I've never stayed in one place for long. The most, perhaps a week, then I would move on to somewhere else. More so after the war, but even before then I travelled a lot. But my realm is... There is always somewhere else you haven't been to.” The demon tilts his head to stare into those blue orbs that watch him with curiosity. “Your world is so small compared to it. But, this realm is better.”

“Why's that?”

“Because it has you in it,” the demon smirks, his teasing expression betraying the honesty of his tone.

“You don't need to flatter me, I won't make you leave just because you don't like my home,” the blond informs him as he places the blue journal atop the windowsill. He can't exactly be angry or offended just because the demon so happens to dislike something that may be quite the opposite to what he is used to.

“I do like it. Your home is just different to what I have experienced. That is not a bad thing.”

“You've never settled down with anyone?” The cadet couldn't have possibly stopped himself from asking, and he regrets the question when the demon gives him a blank stare in return.

“No, why would I have?” The demon is confused by such a question.

“I mean, uh, you are over eight-hundred years old... You must have found someone. Another demon, that you wanted to be with... You know, that you liked, umm, or even just for a short while...” Steve is stumbling over his own words, uttering mumbles he hopes the demon will understand, for he finds it difficult at times to convey the questions that he shouldn't really be asking- or that he shouldn't even bother wanting to know.

“I don't quite understand what you are asking.”

“What I'm trying to get at is... have you ever been with another demon... intimately...”

“You want to know whether I have had sex before?” The demon asks bluntly. Although the dark class is almost definitely amused with the blond's awkward manner. It is a trait not found in demons, and it only makes Bucky adore the younger man even more.

“No! Well, yes... Just... I was wondering if you've ever been with someone, like how we are now.” The blond knows that the demon can probably depict the anxiousness in his voice, the slight tremor to his words as if it pains him to ask such a question. He isn't even sure that he actually wants to know the answer, and yet he still asks, because a part of him just has to know. “If there has ever been someone else that you've spent a lot of time with and liked them and yeah, I guess that includes if you've had sex with that person. Or if you just lived together, or if you travelled with them because you like them.” Steve's voice becomes softer and fainter with each word, his cheeks flushed and eyes staring at their bare feet between them.

The younger man feels as if he is standing on the edge of a cliff, with nothing to prevent him from falling back. Bucky's reply may determine whether he finds himself falling into oblivion, or a part of himself he is yet to venture to.

“I have never found any interest in other _demons_. Never liked my own kind, nor did I seek any companionship from them. But, with you... I enjoy your presence. That is a first for me,” Bucky confesses, but the blond merely gazes up at him with wide eyes that do nothing but entrance the demon. “You are also, the only one that I have ever desired.”

Bucky's life in the Netherworld... not even for a second did the demon have the chance to think about settling his primitive desires. Honestly, he found (and still finds) other demons tedious. He isolated himself from others, especially after the war that still seems to haunt him. As time went on, any demon he came across was either ignored, or killed at the hands of the dark class. But even before the scars appeared upon his skin, he had never felt the appeal of intimacy with another demon. And he certainly doesn't see the attraction to humans, except to a little blond warrior. Human auras and the energy they project fail to arouse any part of the demon: sexual, or even the need to destroy it. But with the amber aura that surrounds Steve... it is truly the most beautiful thing he has ever laid eyes on.

Steve is the only being (demon or human) that Bucky has ever been intrigued by. The cadet evokes foreign sensations in the very depths of the demon's dark, hardened core. Attracts the demon like no one ever has. Steve has made him feel desire and curiosity, fondness and an ecstasy like nothing else.

The human may feel overwhelmed by the forbidden relationship that they have found themselves in, but the demon feels the very same way. Bucky just so happens to have more confidence that comes with his immense power, and the deep yearning to be with the blond in every possible way. Innocently, sexually, and against all odds. The demon knows that Steve wants that too.

“Steve?” Bucky presses when the blond doesn't say or do anything but gnaw at his lower lip. When the younger man still refrains from uttering even the smallest sentence, the dark class takes a step closer, fingers caressing along the length of Steve's jaw as his metallic thumb smooths across that plump lip. “Steve,” Bucky coos again, his other arm sliding around the cadet's slim waist to gently pull him nearer.

“I... It's the same for me too. I like you. _Really_ like you. I've never felt this way about anyone before. I've never wanted to... have _sex_ with anyone before either,” the blond proclaims quietly, giving in to the demon's persuasion as his blush even now refuses to fade. Bucky listens to the younger man carefully; intently, as if working out the cadet's greatest anxieties. For the demon wishes to eradicate them with tender words and attentive actions. “You make me feel so good, Bucky.”

“Then what's stopping you, my little warrior?” The demon whispers into the cadet's ear, his warm breath ghosting Steve's skin, sending a shiver down the younger man's spine.

“Honestly? I don't know,” the blond sighs, leaning against the demon. “I guess I'm just not ready yet. Our situation is...”

“Not common?” The demon suggests.

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, eventually relaxing as Bucky's arms wrap around his form, allowing the cadet to rest his head upon the warmth of the demon's bare chest.

“Hmm, well, I will still be here when you are.”

It isn't quite that Steve is worried about others discovering the intimacy of their relationship- even if Sam already knows. It is more to do with the fact that the emotions and feelings they have for each other, are not supposed to exist. Not in any circumstances. Steve should not trust the demon, and Bucky should not desire the human in such a way, and yet they have defied the unspoken rules of their individual kinds.

If they were to have sex, Steve knows that they would be going down a path from which there is no return. Having sex would mean that Steve would no longer be able deny the true extent and depth of his feelings for the demon. He would no longer be able to play it off as some simple infatuation, or his impulse for knowledge. Because it is so much more than either of those things.


	29. Your Shadows Are Not A Part Of This World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Twenty-eight:  
> **Bucky escaped containment to find Steve in Brooklyn.  
> **Sarah expressed her desire of not wanting Steve to bring his demon home.  
> **Bucky admitted not ever having a partner, and they both somewhat 'confessed' their feelings about their situation/relationship.

“I could have sworn it was in here...” Steve murmurs as he sorts through piles of clothes at the bottom of his wardrobe. Bucky sits at the edge of the bed, admiring the cadet's lean body with a self-satisfied smirk. “I know I didn't throw it out, and I'm sure I didn't end up returning it.”

“Do I have to wear it? I don't like that friend of yours,” the demon grumbles. Rather child-like if Steve had to describe it.

“It isn't Sam's, it belonged to his older brother, so stop complaining,” Steve reprimands, finally pulling out the red jumper from beneath a now messy mountain of clothes. “Here. It should fit you.”

“Do I have to wear this?” Even as Bucky asks, he still takes the material from the blond, although quite reluctantly.

“Mhmm, put your trousers and shoes on too.” The younger man grabs his own set of clean clothes from atop the desk. Not thinking twice as he strips in front of the demon.

“We goin' somewhere?”

“Just around the block. I could do with some fresh air and no one will be around to see you.”

“Why don't we just stay in?” Bucky teases, leaving the hoodie on the bed so that his hands can encase the blond's hips, pulling the smaller man back against him. The demon presses delicate kisses upon the nape of Steve's neck, causing an embarrassed giggle to escape the human.

“Bucky,” Steve laughs. “Come on, put the jumper on.”

“If you insist.” The demon nips once at the blond's throat, earning himself a gasp and a light nudge of an elbow to his chest before the dark class walks away with a chuckle.

“We have all day,” Steve suddenly declares. The demon glances at him, only to find the cadet giving him the most mischievous, but serious look. As if there is a literal longing pooling in his irises. “My mother won't be back until this evening.”

“I like the sound of that plan.” Bucky hauls the jumper over his head before smiling slyly at the cadet. The demon can see the faintest brush of pink upon the human's otherwise pale cheeks, almost as if a pink dust has fallen upon his skin, decorating it with its hue.

“Are you comfortable?” Steve asks, noting how the red hoodie conceals the thin stripe of the demon's collar. The dark class could actually pass as a human... Maybe that is why Steve sees him as one.

“Mmm, it smells like you,” Bucky hums, almost as if he is in a slight daze, or his mind has become hazy by the overwhelming scent. It's not quite as sweet as if the demon were to breathe and lick at the blond's throat, but it is still distinctly Steve. The dark class finds himself fond of wearing such an item of clothing that bathes the demon in the human's scent, however faint it may be.

“I'm not surprised, its been in my wardrobe for two years when Sam had left it behind- don't ask why he was wearing it, I'm pretty sure it was just to annoy Gideon. But, it covers your collar,” the blond explains, slipping into a grey t-shirt.

“It wasn't a complaint.”

“I know.” The cadet tries to hide his smile by reaching for a navy zip-up jacket.

When he turns back around, Bucky is tying up his academy-issued boots. Steve waits until the demon reaches him before making their way to the front door. Stepping into his own boots, the blond readies the key in his hand after zipping up his jacket- if the demon wasn't beside him, he would have almost definitely put a coat on too. But the dark class expels a constant warmth much like how a volcano does, and it always encases the blond so that the icy air can never shiver upon his skin.

Its subtle, but Steve has noticed. There are many things the demon does to show that he wishes to care for and protect the younger man. Not just by defending his form against the winter air, but other things too. Like how Bucky doesn't allow the blond to research too late into the night, or how he takes his time to teach him the symbols of his language. The dark class wards off other demons, soothes his aching muscles and only ever dismantles the wall around him with gentle words and kisses containing many promises. Steve has noticed all of this, and yet he is unsure of Bucky's intentions. Whether the demon's actions are purposeful, or controlled by instinct, Steve doesn't know.

But, he can't stop thinking about it. Not if Bucky feels what he does, for their reverberating bond tells them both that their emotions for the other are very much in sync. No, it isn't that. It's something Steve has pondered since the beginning, and that he is yet to get an answer to.

_Why did Bucky come through the gateway?_

Steve doesn't understand how he became bonded with such a demon. The cadet knows that it would be foolish of him to think that Bucky came through on accident. So... Steve can only ask himself what the demon's purpose was when he came into the human realm. The sort of goal the dark class had in mind... Steve cannot even begin to imagine what it could have been. The blond is more intrigued than ever, for the demon has confessed his desire to want to live because of the blond.

Steve is Bucky's reason to live.

A human is a demon's reason to live.

How can the cadet believe that?

But, before that.... Before they had met and became so entwined with each other. It fills him with dread wondering just what sort of life Bucky had in the Netherworld. What tortures of war had he faced? Or had something else occurred that was so much worse? Steve supposes that he should just be grateful that Bucky is his demon. That they are bonded and share such a special connection. However, Bucky's past and his intentions are still a mystery that Steve cannot forget.

“Many people live here? In one place?” Bucky questions with a frown as his eyes scan the length of the hallway and all of the doors alongside it.

“Yeah. Costs less than an actual house.”

“Do you like the other humans that live here?”

“Sure, the neighbours are nice. We're kind of like a community- everyone knows each other.” Regardless of the drunk three doors down, and the two elderly ladies across the hall who do nothing but gossip about everyone else, Steve thinks they're lucky to have such neighbours.

It doesn't sound it at first, but everyone sticks together. The blond knows that the drunk used to be a combat military soldier, until he was injured in action and given an honourable discharge. The two elderly ladies were actually shunned back in their home town many years ago for openly confessing their love for each another. Now, the ex-military soldier goes to therapy twice a week, only after being persuaded to go by a neighbour who helped them through an anxiety attack in the hallway. Now, the two elderly ladies have found themselves amongst people who accept them for who they are; they can live freely without fear every second of the day.

Everyone has their quirks- and that isn't necessarily a bad quality of the human race.

“And that is a good thing?” The demon clearly doesn't think so. His brow is raised and his expression shows his hesitance of the thought.

“I guess.” Steve shrugs, placing the key into his jacket pocket. “I mean, if you're struggling with something there is always someone who will help you out, you know? And you return the favour whenever they need help.”

“Like a trade?”

“Kind of. Though if you help someone out you shouldn't expect anything in return. But it is just normal to do someone a favour if they have done the same for you,” Steve explains.

“Your customs are rather strange,” the demon announces, confused by the prospect of such human behaviour. The idea of helping another being survive... is it a foreign concept to the dark class.

“Do you not have any customs like that?”

“You mean do anything that doesn't benefit solely ourselves?”

“Well... yeah.” The blond's gaze flickers to the demon before they descend down the worn-out stairs. The grey steps are darker in the middle from years of hundreds of people walking up and down them. Traipsing spots of dirt and mud mindlessly around the building. “Although the look you're giving me right now suggests that you don't.”

“Why bother aiding another one of my kind in survival? There isn't a point to that,” Bucky replies apathetically.

“Why? Because you don't like them? Or because they could try to take advantage?”

“A little of both.”

“You scare your kind. When we were in the arena...” Steve doesn't know quite how to say it, but he tries nonetheless.“They knew how powerful you are, and that scared the hell out of them.”

“They were young, very young. They probably hadn't seen a powerful demon before,” Bucky smirks. The kind of smirk that shows just how smug and arrogant the demon can be at times; though not that Steve particularly minds.

Bucky's power courses though him vividly and almost wildly, barely controlled and held back by a thin chain only for the younger man's benefit. It would be bizarre if Bucky didn't realise and understand just how powerful he is. Demons are more than self-aware. They perceive themselves as being in a hierarchy dictated by power- humans being at the lowest possible level.

“But there was that high level water class demon,” Steve reminds him- although the dark class certainly doesn't need to be reminded.

“She wasn't that powerful,” the demon scoffs, as if the mere idea of the blond thinking that the demon had been even close to Bucky's power offends him.

Steve rolls his eyes at that, before sneaking a glance at the demon from the corner of his eye.

“Fury never did tell us how it got into the arena though...” The cadet begins, choosing his words wisely. Not accusing the demon, but just genuinely asking the dark class out of curiosity, and a bit of an inkling. “Do you know?”

“Hm?”

“How she could have gotten into the arena undetected.”

“No... I don't,” the demon replies, not quite meeting the pair of crystalline blue orbs that surely make the blond's gaze so sharp and bright. Perhaps that is why the dark class finds himself weak to them- for their beauty is something he never wants to share.

“She could have concealed some of her power, right?”

“No, she wasn't powerful enough to do that.”

“So you have an idea on how she did it,” Steve accuses, arms folding in mock irritation. “Care to tell?”

“Not particularly.”

“Seriously?”

“I'll tell you when I am sure,” the demon attempts to compromise, but that only gets him a huffed retort of disbelief.

“I can't tell whether you are joking or not.”

“It doesn't matter, you killed her,” the demon says, his words void of any speck of emotion.

The cadet can't exactly deny that.

It still feels almost surreal, as if their time in the arena had just been some vivid nightmare. But, it was very real, and soon, the cadets will be thrown into far deadlier situations. It is expected by everyone, that not all of the cadets will make it through the programme. And even if they do, it is likely that a few will not make it past a year of true field work.

Steve watches the demon carefully as they reach the main entrance of the apartment complex, immediately being met by a sudden gust of icy wind that doesn't quite seep through the cadet's clothes. The demon's mere form beside him radiates a constant heat the swells around the blond and permeates his entire form. When Bucky touches him, that heat only intensifies.

“Did you know her? Like how you know that light class?”

“No. I had never seen that demon before.” Bucky stares straight ahead and up at the grey sky above them. Like a canvas that is yet to be painted with the colours and vibrancies of summer.

“She didn't seem that frightened of you,” the blond states.

“If she hadn't been scared, she would not have acted so hysterically.”

“Why do I get the feeling you're not saying something.” It isn't a question, not really. The cadet doesn't expect to get any form of an answer. The blond has learned that the demon has many secrets, and now he has to learn to allow Bucky to disclose them himself. Rather than be pried out by stubborn words from a human who cannot ever understand.

“I think... she was there for a reason,” the demon admits, though that is all he confesses to the blond as their boots hit the icy path beneath them with sharp thuds.

“What kind of reason?” Steve questions, more quietly and cautiously than before.

“I don't know, my little warrior,” the demon confesses with a sigh, his expression soft as he glimpses at the younger man.

Steve doesn't ask anything else after that, but chooses to embrace the bitter-cold air that floods over his face with every harsh breeze. Each one of their exhales come out as a hazy mist in front of their eyes, expressing the warmth of their bodies. The streets are empty like a wasteland, and Steve cannot even depict the sounds of cars or laughter. For just a moment, it is as if they are the only two beings left in the entire world.

The demon's fingers nudge and trace against Steve's own, a silent question. When the blond doesn't move his hand, Bucky entwines their fingers, only for the younger man to automatically yank his hand away. Steve's eyes widen when he realises what he's done. Out of instinct, the cadet had feared them being caught, as if they were back at the academy and they would be more than a little scolded. But there is no reason to be as secretive when walking along the uneven, abandoned paths of Brooklyn.

“Ah, s-sorry,” the blond stutters, before firmly gripping the demon's non-metallic hand.

The demon chuckles, giving the blond's hand a light squeeze in return, certain that the blush upon Steve's cheeks is not from the cold wind. It takes them ten minutes to stroll around the block, passing empty shops and frozen-over cars, taking care not to slip on the uneven pavement slabs. But when they reach the apartment complex (their hands still joined) they merely continue walking absent-mindedly. Not uttering a single word to each other, but allowing the sensation of their bond pulsating and vibrating in drawn-out waves to say what cannot be put into words..

“We better go back in,” Steve announces as the apartment building comes into view once more. It is almost like an overbearing presence admonishing them- telling them that they are not the only two beings in the entire universe. Telling them that they have to go back to the cruel system of reality. A reality that, if others were to know of the actually intensity of their relationship... would surely try its best to break them apart. Regardless if their best methods would kill one of them, or even both.

Even as they walk into the lobby and up the stairs, their hands never once break apart as their footsteps echo up the stairwell. Steve can perceive voices as they reach the floor of his apartment, but even then the blond doesn't think much of it. For once... just _once_ perhaps Steve can show a little of his fondness for the demon out in the open. For just once, pretend that his feelings for the demon don't have to be a secret from everyone else around them. That his emotions are not forbidden. That he isn't a fool for ~~being in~~ feeling this way. That his heart doesn't pound faster and more viscously against his ribcage whenever he meets the demon's gaze. That he doesn't yearn for the demon's touch and desires to be embraced by a creature of darkness.

Because... what he feels must remain a secret. His emotions are forbidden and he is a fool for allowing them to consume him. His heart does beat erratically whenever those silver-flecked eyes find his own. He does yearn for the demon's touch, and he desires to be overwhelmed by a being he shouldn't trust. But, for just a moment, they can pretend that it will all be okay.

As soon as they step into the hallway, Steve finds himself smiling when his gaze falls upon the two elderly ladies shuffling into their apartment- talking loudly to each other about _'what a good church service'_ they had just received. They don't notice the blond and his demon, or maybe they did and just decided to let them be as their door shuts with a loud thud. Hands still connected, Steve struggles to get the key out of his pocket, much to the demon's amusement.

Only when the door is locked behind them that the cadet's hand finally slips from the demon's grasp. But Steve doesn't get the chance to miss Bucky's warmth, for the demon's hands soon pry off the blond's jacket; fingers dipping underneath the thin fabric of the younger man's shirt to trace along his sides.

“What are you doing?” Steve giggles, neck arching slightly as the demon nuzzles against the side of his throat.

“Warming my hands,” Bucky jests with a smirk, hands firmly sliding along the cadet's spine. The sensors under each metallic plate smooth over every knot and curve of the younger man's back; as if they are not capable of snapping the human like how one might break a feeble branch with their bare fist.

“Your hands are already warm.” Even as the blond says this, his arms link around the demon's shoulders, clinging onto him... never wanting to let this moment of solace to end. Body brimming with a gentle heat that crawls between every fibre of his being, his anxieties are chased away by a darkness that caresses him, every tense muscle relaxing and melting with the touch he craves.

“Mm, but they're not as hot as you,” the demon teases.

A burst of laughter escapes the blond at Bucky's words, and after a moment, the demon laughs along with him. Like a harmony of joy resounding in the other's ears; it is light and carefree, even while the weight of their fate bears down upon them like a persistent force. Akin to an avalanche chasing two beings into a singular, unchangeable direction. Though even as their laughter quickly dies down, neither can erase the grins upon their faces.

“You are such a flirt,” Steve drawls, leaning ever-so-slightly back against the demon's arms as Bucky looms forward to pepper kisses along the stretch of the blond's jaw.

“Only because you _arouse_ me so much,” the demon practically growls, though his voice is laced with a teasing seduction that borderlines being rather honest. Steve isn't able to give a witty reply before the Bucky's lips find his own, and after that, nothing worthy of breaking their kiss comes to mind.

The blond's hold around the demon tightens, just as Bucky's hands trail down to the smooth curve of Steve ass, using his palms to pull the cadet even closer. There isn't even a centimetre of space between them, just a layer of clothing and even that is too much for the bonded pair. Taking the blond's lower lip between his teeth, the demon gently tugs it, nipping the pink skin to elicit a whiny moan dripping with pleasure from the younger man.

“ _Fuck...”_ Steve gasps, eyes closed as as the demon's warm breath intermixes with his own, “you're going to be the death of me.” Although the younger man doesn't mean those words in the literal sense, it still causes the demon's movements to halt as if he had been frozen in time.

Taken aback by Bucky's reaction, the cadet opens his mouth to say something until the demon lightly rests his forehead against the blond's. This way, every fleck of silver swirling in the blue of Bucky's eyes shine brightly, like the glint of crystals catching the light. But really, they appear so vivid when compared to the darkness the demon's eyes withhold.

“I hope not,” Bucky whispers.

In the demon's voice, there is a hint of some foreign uneasiness that Steve cannot understand.

        

“Do you want some fruit or something?” Steve calls out from the kitchen.

“You don't need to feed me,” the demon chuckles, stretching out on the two-seater sofa as much as he is physically able to. The cadet finds it humorous: how the dark class extends his form in such a way, like a big cat working out the knots in its limbs. Only then to relax and lounge in a subconscious effort to attract the attention of a certain blond. But, when the dark class acts in such a way, Steve becomes relieved, for when the demon is like this, he knows that Bucky is utterly, and completely content.

“I know...” Steve says hesitantly, sorting through the wired-metallic bowl in search of shiny, round plums amongst red apples, oranges, and a single banana. Taking the final two dark purple fruits, the cadet washes them under the cool water of the kitchen tap before making his way back over to the demon. “Here,” Steve offers one of the plums to the dark class, who takes it with a slight smile and without any complaints.

Bucky shifts his legs off of the sofa to allow the cadet to sit beside him upon the firm cushions. Crossing his legs, the younger man automatically leans back to press against the demon's side like two pieces of a puzzle slotting together. Bucky's metallic arm drapes across the back of the couch and around the blond, fingers dangling to meet one bony shoulder.

The television blurs at a low volume, displaying vital news in-between shows that neither human or demon are interested in. They eat the fruit in relative silence, enjoying the company of the other without really having to interact or resorting to small talk. But a sudden crunch in his ear has the cadet turning to look up at the demon with a mortified expression.

“That's so gross,” Steve proclaims, scandalised. Though really, his words are only intended to tease the demon just a little bit. Like a tiny cub chasing a disinterested lion's tail to gain some sort of attention.

“What is?” The dark class questions, only for the light crunching to continue.

“You eat the seed! You're not supposed to. How can your teeth even bite through it?”

“By using force,” the demon deadpans.

“Don't get cocky with me,” Steve reprimands with a raised brow before turning away again. “And wipe that smirk off your face.”

Ignoring the demon's low laughter, the cadet rolls his eyes before getting up to abandon his own plum seed in the bin. The demon watches his movements, with as much interest as always and the blond catches his stare upon his return. Quickly casting his gaze away with a shy smile and a tinge of unfounded embarrassment, the blond nudges against the demon's side once more.

Although the tune of voices from the dull screen above the mantelpiece can be heard, Steve finds himself listening to the faint sounds of Bucky's metallic fingers brushing through his hair. Silver plates running through golden strands until they slip away, only for the action to be repeated again and again after the younger man lets his head gently fall onto the demon's shoulder.

Bucky cannot remember the last time he felt so at ease.

Here, with the blond in his arms. An entire apartment to contain their secret and away from prying eyes. The nearest demon five miles away and who Bucky knows for certain is not a threat. Bucky can feel how soothed and relaxed the blond is, and that only makes him feel more content. It is better, in the cold Brooklyn apartment, than the tiny room at the academy- at least the demon thinks so.

Here, on the sofa of the apartment, they are further from the nearest gateway into the Netherworld.

“We could be having sex right now,” Bucky says plainly. Out of absolutely nowhere and as if he totally unaware of how the subject makes Steve blush like a teenager being told their crush likes them back. However, the demon is exactly aware of what emotions flood through the cadet at the mere mention of sex.

“Bucky!” The blond exclaims, a blush profusely making its way upon the pale skin of his cheeks. If he had been drinking while hearing the demon's words, the liquid would surely have spluttered out... or he would have choked on it. “Don't say that.”

“Just statin' a fact, doll.”

“Unnecessarily.” The blond scowls, only for the demon to press a kiss to the end of his nose.

“Mm, but you know you want to,” Bucky purrs; voice rough and coaxing. Luring the younger man in like a deadly siren

“In your dre-” The rest of Steve's words become a yelp in his throat as he finds himself being pushed back against the seat cushions, head angled on the arm rest with his wrists being held down beside it.

“What was that you were about to say, my little warrior?” The demon smirks, looming over the smaller man like an untameable shadow. Dark strands of hair framing his sharp jawline and those wonderfully electrifying eyes.

But the mischief in those silvery orbs contain a subtlety amongst it- a patience. The demon's words betray the fact that Bucky would never force Steve to do anything. They are merely a premise of the demon's desires, but none of which he will yet follow through on. Not until the young blond moans and gasps that he wants it too. That he wants it _now,_ and then, and only then, will the demon carry out the actions spurred on only by his lust for the human.

“I'm not going to let you _fuck me_ on the sofa,” the younger man asserts, staring into the demon's eyes in a way one might perceive it as a challenge. Though really, neither human or demon can quite eradicate the smiles at the very corners of their mouths.

“Why not?” Bucky smirks, his self-satisfaction clear. For the blond's blush has extended down the pale skin of his throat to gather at the top of his chest around the pendant underneath his shirt. Those blue eyes have darkened, as the ocean might when one travels further into its depths.

“Because my _mother_ sits here!” Steve exclaims.

The demon pulls the cadet up in one swift motion, and Steve's arms instinctively wrap around those broad shoulders as he is settled into Bucky's lap. Slim thighs straddling the demon's as their lips become mere inches apart, breaths entwining as they each become entranced by the other's gaze.

“How about a kiss, then?” The demon softly offers, hands finding the slight dips of Steve's sides.

“Hmm... I dunno,” the blond teases, although he sounds breathless and oh so _needy._ His slender fingers naturally seeking out the dark trails at the nape of the demon's neck, digging in and tugging just slightly as his grip tightens and loosens.

“Are you going to deprive me of a kiss?” Bucky accuses with a light chuckle.

“As if I would do that...” The younger man sighs, leaning in the rest of the way to capture the demon's lips. Its slow, languid even, and yet Steve's whole body burns with an electric heat like no other. Warmer than the afternoon sun that beams through the icy window panes to bathe them in an almost yellow, divine glow.

The demon hums into the kiss, the blond echoing the sound with his own soft moans. Steve can feel those firm hands sliding along his bare skin, pulling him closer until their chests are flush against one another. But then, through their kiss, the cadet can depict the faint click and clang of something metallic just over ten feet away. Steve breaks their kiss to listen with confusion, until he hears the main door opening with a dull squeak.

Quickly scrambling off of the demon's lap, the blond wobbles to a stand while Bucky remains as calm and composed as ever- though his hands do feel rather empty without the younger man's form under them. Only seconds later the door shuts again and Steve steps to the entrance of the apartment to find his mother taking off her coat.

“Hey, Ma. I thought you weren't coming back until dinner?”

“That was the plan. But a colleague of mine came in to take over for me. I just had to get the interns organised before I left,” Sarah explains, wrapping her scarf over the other spare coat hook as she simultaneously shuffles out of her boots. “Are you alright, sweetheart? You look a little flushed.”

“I'm fine,” the cadet replies nervously, feeling his mother's gaze flow across the angles of his face. Somewhat convinced, Sarah turns away, only for her to sidestep past the blond to enter the lounge. Steve can't even manage to get out two words of an explanation or a warning before his mother's stare lands upon the dark class. Although to Sarah, all she perceives is a muscular man sat respectably on the couch.

Bucky looks up at Sarah he feels the vibration of her light footsteps close by. Standing in one graceful, and yet overpowering motion, the demon approaches the blonde woman, smiling politely as one might when introducing yourself to someone of significance.

“Hello, ma'am. I'm James Barnes, pleasure to meet you,” Bucky says, completely and utterly charming as he extends his hand to her. Sarah takes it with a smile once her initial surprise fades. “I've heard so much about you from Steve.”

The cadet can merely stare at them with wide, shocked eyes, like a baby deer confused by the oncoming headlights. Bucky's demeanour has changed vastly, becoming more human-like than ever before. His voice is lighter, carrying less impact with it and even the darkness in his eyes has seemed to vanish- as if to erase any indication of the shadows that reside within his flesh.

“Oh? All good things I hope,” Sarah laughs, the end of her nose and cheeks still pink from walking in the bitter-air outside.

“Of course, Steve thinks very highly of you.”

The blonde woman smiles at that, perhaps a little embarrassed as she observes the taller man. When she finally turns away to place her phone on the kitchen counter top, Steve raises a brow at the demon, who only gives him a sly smirk in return. The cadet can't quite manage to find his own words.

“So, how do you know my son?” Sarah asks inquisitively, “are you in the military together?”

“Yes, ma'am. I used to be in the human military service until a year and a half ago, when I decided to join the demon programme,” the dark class explains. Although Steve knows that his words are false, the way he says them makes them seem true. As if the dark class had put great thought into the lie before telling it.

Though that is not the only detail that disturbs the blond. But the fact that only through observing and asking the occasional question, the demon has memorised in depth human behaviour and circumstances. Allowing him to generate lies that wont raise any suspicion about how human he actually is.

Because really... Bucky isn't human at all.

He is a fierce, intelligent being made up of darkness and nothing else.

But how easily he is able to blend into a race so unlike his own, so that he can remain undetected... How natural lying seems to be for the demon- the ease that comes with it... seeing such behaviour right in front of him deeply unsettles the blond.

“Ah, I see,” she smiles, before glancing between the too with an almost critical expression. “Well, you are most welcome to stay for dinner.”

“Thank you, ma'am. I would like that, as long as that's alright.”

“Of course, any friend of Steve is welcome here. Especially on this occasion,” Sarah beams, though perhaps a little sorrowfully. There is an awkward moment of silence as the cadet still struggles to comprehend exactly what is going on, before his mother turns her perceptive gaze away to turn on the kettle. “I still need to make some calls though for a transplant happening tomorrow, so you two are free to do what you like until dinner is ready.”

“Okay, we'll just go to my room then so we don't disturb you,” Steve finally manages to blurt out, searching for the remote to allow the television to flash into a black screen as the low voices cut out completely.

Sarah just gives them a small smile, phone landline situated on the wall of the kitchen already in hand as she opens up a small notebook scribbled with names and numbers- eager, and yet desperate to finish her work. Neither of them should have expected any differently: Sarah Rogers is not in the type of career that allows you to have time for your family, nor for yourself. It is just as demanding as being in the military, and the basic principles are the same: search for knowledge, save lives.

Grabbing the demon by his forearm, the blond drags him to the bedroom. Although Bucky certainly doesn't go with any reluctance- although perhaps he should have done.

“What the hell was that?” Steve snaps as soon as the door clicks into place.

“Your mother is important to you, so I introduced myself to her,” the demon replies casually.

“You were supposed to disappear while I greeted her, not just sit there and wait for her to see you. I thought it was obvious that I didn't want her to meet you.” The cadet's arms cross over his chest defensively.

“I don't understand why you are so anxious.” Bucky frowns, as if his squinting eyes could allow him to uncover the answers to what he can't quite figure out. Human emotions are far more complex compared to demons- even ones like Bucky. Sometimes, that makes Steve a rather interesting puzzle.

“What if she had realised that you're not _human?_ What if she realises that you're a demon whilst we eat fucking dinner together,” the cadet pauses, as if realising the gravity of the situation that weighs down on them like a tremendous falling boulder. “Oh my god... She would _freak._ And I mean, _James._ What the fuck was that? Why did you tell her that?”

“It is a common male name in humans, is it not?”

“And _Barnes?”_

“It has a nice ring to it, don't you think so?” The demon grins.

Steve can't argue with that. Not when Bucky is looking at him ~~as if so very pleased with himself~~ as if he is trying to please the blond with the knowledge he has gathered.

“So you had thought about it... About what to say to her. Hell. You even made up stuff about being in the military,” the blond scoffs.

“I am though,” he corrects simply, although it might not have been the best thing for him to say. But Bucky is uncertain of what he should say to provide some sort of comfort.

“I-” The blond is interrupted by Bucky's stern voice.

“Steve.” The demon waits for the blond to meet his gaze properly with those stubborn blue orbs before continuing. “The risks I take are calculated. Thoroughly. I would not have talked to her if I thought that she would suspect me. I have been around humans long enough to know how to act like one.”

“Just... Its done now. I'm not angry with you, I only worry about you. I can't take the risk of someone finding out how special you are.” Just the mere thought has the blond becoming distressed.

“My intention was not to go against your wishes. But your attachment to her intrigues me, and I wanted to meet her, as I do not plan on ever leaving your side.” The demon takes a single step closer before continuing, and the cadet has to crane his neck up to meet his gaze. “I do not desire to deprive you of this world, I understand its importance to you. But...”

“What is it?” The younger man faintly urges.

Bucky is silent, and Steve can only patiently wait for an answer. The dark class has become so quiet...as if holding back what he really wants to say. But after a moment, the demon lets out a low, disheartened sigh.

“Nothing, my little warrior.” _~~I want to become a bigger part of it.~~_

        

Bucky is charming.

Of course, Steve kind of knew that already.

But Steve has never seem him truly interact with another being that isn't himself. And now the demon is talking to his mother like some charismatic movie star. The cadet honestly doesn't know what to make of it.

The demon laughs appropriately, and uses the knife and fork as if he has never used anything else to eat his food. He makes small talk and consumes his slice of slightly burnt chicken without a fuss.

Honestly... Steve is a little dumbfounded.

“Do you come from Brooklyn, James? You have a bit of an accent.”

“No, ma'am. But you would be surprised how much I get asked that,” Bucky jokes.

Honestly... Steve is a little unsure how to react.

Whenever Sarah looks away the demon turns to him with that mischievous smirk and that glint in his eyes as if creating such an intricate lie is _fun._ As if lying is just a game to exercise his mind. As if the whole situation only amuses the demon like how a young child may laugh at the rattle that shakes in its hand.

The blond is torn between two sensations within himself.

“Where is home, then?”

Yes, Steve is thrilled that his mother seems so taken with Bucky. That she looks at him with the very same curiosity as the blond.

“I travelled a lot when I was younger. So there isn't anywhere that is quite home, yet.”

But, Sarah doesn't actually _know_ the demon. If she did, the is no doubt in the cadet's mind that his mother would tell him to leave with the fiend. She would surely scream in her frightened state as her skin turns more pale than ever before and her heart beats with every pound of her fear.

“Don't you have a girlfriend, or a wife perhaps, James?”

“Ma!” Steve abruptly interferes, his cutlery clattering onto the table beside his plate.

“No, I don't, ma'am,” Bucky replies, far from startled by the cadet's outburst.

“Surely a handsome man like you has someone?” Sarah continues to pry, completely ignoring her son's mortified expression with an playful smile as if she knows exactly what she is doing.

“Not yet, ma'am.”

“Not even a boyfriend?”

“Ma! That's enough.” The cadet's voice is firm, but that does nothing to deter her.

“What? That's a thing now, isn't it? We're not in the dark ages, we can talk about it” Sarah exclaims- as if she is the one who needs to give Steve a lecture.

“That's not what I meant, Ma. Don't bother him with such personal questions,” he reprimands. Even though Steve doesn't want her to push the demon too far, the only one who is being irritated by her invading questions is the blond.

“I was only interested. So, James, do you have a boyfriend?” Sarah asks, disregarding Steve's stern words.

“You don't need to answer that,” the cadet interjects quickly before Bucky can open his mouth.

The demon merely chuckles before answering.

“No, ma'am. I don't have a boyfriend.”

After that, Sarah seems to leave that topic alone, although Steve isn't entirely convinced that the matter is settled by the way she keeps glancing between them.It sets the blond on edge, filled with a constant worry that at any moment, she may figure out that she has invited a demon into her home. A creature that could wipe her into oblivion before she even has time to blink.

But regardless of that, Sarah convinces Bucky to stay the night. Or rather, she proposed the idea and Bucky gladly accepted the offer. She hands him a spare pillow and blanket pulled from atop her wardrobe, and no matter the dust upon it, the dark class takes it with a smile. Bucky easily persuades her to let him sleep on the couch rather than having to dig out the blow up bed- for sleep is far from the demon's mind. Not when his body isn't pressed against the blond's form, cradling him in his arms and breathing in that sweet scent.

“No one should have to spend Christmas night alone,” Sarah quietly tells her son as they stand in the hallway of the two bedrooms. The blond nods his head slightly, gaze flittering to the side as if in search of the demon he knows will be sat on the sofa. “I like him, Steve.”

“Hm?” The cadet turns his attention to his mother.

“James. He's really nice.”

“Yeah, he is.” Steve doesn't even realise how his eyes light up at only a mention of the demon- as if thousands of fireworks are blazing and swirling along with the delicate heat that echoes throughout his entire body.

“You picked a good one,” she smiles warmly.

“Huh? What do you mean?” Steve frowns in his confusion, but his mother merely continues to watch him with blue eyes that seem to know something that the cadet does not.

“You and James, you're good together.”

“Its not like that,” Steve denies, though his shoulders sink with his words.

“Don't play dumb with me. I can see the way you two look at eachother,” she declares adamantly.

Steve can't stop the guilty blush the sneaks its way to the surface. Like a newly planted seed embedded in dark soil, it cannot be prevented from reaching the tip of the uneven landscape. Not with the pull of the sun beckoning it forth with the promise of light in a world that has always seemed dark.

“If he makes you happy, then I don't mind at all.” The sincerity in her voice is almost overwhelming. It disturbs something in the blond's chest- a trail of remorse and perhaps shame are scattered between the deep rooted emotions of desire and endearment for the demon.

“Ma...” Steve says softly, his voice a wisp of a sigh.

“Does he make you happy?” Sarah gently inquires, as if carefully prodding for answers from a rather stubborn creature.

“Yes. But-” Even if Sarah didn't interrupt him, he doesn't actually know what he would have said to her anyway. The feelings he has for Bucky... his mother could never understand them. And she would never accept them if she knew that he felt such strong emotions for a _demon_.

“No buts. If he makes you happy, then that's all that matters.” His mother seems so sure of herself. Perhaps if he cut off all thoughts of the outside world, Steve could find it within himself to believe her words; even if just for a single moment. However, the next words she utters, Steve knows that they speak the truth. “You know that I'll always love you, Steve.”

“I know, Ma,” the blond smiles, just slightly, for his mother is staring at him with eyes containing his own reflected hope of the future.

“I won't say anything if he sleeps in your room, but just keep the noise down. And stay safe, okay? There's condoms and lube in the bathroom if you need it,” Sarah says bluntly, taking the cadet by surprise.

“Ma!” Steve has never blushed such a deep shade of red in his life. A literal burning heat of embarrassment crawling under his skin.

“I'm going to work early in the morning and I'll be back by lunch to see you both off,” Sarah informs him before leaning closer to press a kiss to his cheek. Like how a mother may do so to soothe away their child's nightmares. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, Ma.” The cadet watches her disappear into her room, before finally twisting the handle of his own, allowing the door to open without stepping through it. Steve ponders to the edge of the lounge where the demon's silver-flecked eyes stare back at him through the dim light of the room.

“Come here,” the blond lures quietly.

With a darkened smirk, the demon wanders over to the cadet, taking his left hand into his own. Bucky lifts the blond's soft knuckles so that he can kiss its sensitive surface as the younger man looks up at him through thick lashes. Metallic fingers trace across the lines of Steve's palm before reluctantly letting go, only to follow the smaller man to his room.


	30. Your Shadows Are Capable Of Torture, Yet They Embrace Me Gently

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Twenty-nine:  
> **Bucky admitted that he has an idea on how the water class demon was able to be in the arena undetected, but doesn't tell Steve.  
> **Bucky met Sarah, and proceeded to act like a human.

“I'm going to go have a shower, just stay here, okay?”

“Mhm,” Bucky hums, sitting at the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight.“I'll be waiting.”

Steve rolls his eyes before leaving, the door clicking safely shut behind him as he makes his way to the grey-tiled bathroom. Bucky listens to the sound of his footsteps fading away until he perceives the thud and high-pitched turn of the door locking into place. Just a few moments later, the demon hears the beginnings of cascading water, and finds his gaze scanning the quiet room.

There is a picture frame on top of the desk that catches the demon's eye, and he hauls himself from the bed to get a closer look. Silver metallic edges encase a photo of Steve and Sam, and it looks as if a phone had been used to capture the image of two smiling faces. But then, the demon's stare drifts to a bronze frame beside it, a man adorned in military uniform stands tall in front of a red-brick wall. The dark class picks it up carefully to examine the human.

His hair is short and dusted a light brown colour, a contrast to his blue eyes that appear somewhat dark. There is nothing kind about the expression on his face; his brows are drawn together as if frowning, his stance menacing as he grips a red, leather-bound journal in one arm against his chest. Bucky places it back where he had found it without so much as a sound, only to pick up the smaller picture frame beside it.

This one... the demon is rather fond of it. Steve must be no more than six or seven years old, sitting in his mother's lap with her arms around him, the biggest grins on their faces. The pair are situated on a white-cotton bed, the walls behind them grey with white light shining down upon them. Steve looks tired, his skin is pale -more than it should be- and his back presses against his mother's chest as if leaning up by himself takes too much effort. But... there is an aura of stubbornness all around him. The stubbornness of a child who wants to keep living.

Bucky gently sets it down, his gaze casting out the window to scan the dim alleyway. Every black crevice has been consumed by a layer of glimmering ice, yet the demon doesn't feel the freezing atmosphere that makes others shiver. As the demon turns away, he takes notice of the cadet's bag slumped beside the bed. Bucky opens it without a second thought, instantly finding the red journal and pulling it out to have a better look. The fabric is rough under his fingertips, but it is tainted with the blond's scent; especially as he pulls the edges apart to look inside where the cadet's hands have been pressed against the pages while scribbling his notes.

It is only the curled writing that the demon reads, familiar with each loop and bend produced only with Steve's fingers gripped tightly around a black-ink pen. After skimming through each line of writing, the demon closes the journal, only to stare at the silver star on the front cover. Quickly glancing over the bronze picture frame, Bucky can tell that the star was not present on the journal at the time the photo was taken.

The demon hears the distant sound of running water come to a sudden stop, and he slides the journal back into the bag. Returning to where Steve had left him sat on the bed, Bucky waits for the younger man's return. It isn't too long until the bathroom door unlocks and the demon can overhear the pitter-patter of bare feet treading carefully down the hallway. Bucky looks up just as the door opens, and he is more than a little delighted to see Steve with nothing but a black towel hanging around his hips and the pendant pressed against his chest.

“What?” Steve raises a brow at the demon's persistent stare; those dark eyes raking over him as if they would rather gaze upon nothing else. When the dark class doesn't reply with some smart retort, the blond wanders closer until he stands between the demon's knees. “Enjoying the view?” The blond teases with shy smile.

“Mmm, it is a very nice view,” Bucky hums- his words practically an echo of some contented growl. There is the most faintest of blushes dancing across the cadet's cheeks, trailing down as a little rosy patch upon his chest, right above those two little pink nubs that provide a contrast to the pale skin of Steve's abdomen. The blond's form has that slight glisten to it from the dampness still present on the surface, occasional droplets falling from the younger man's fringe to descend along his chest until reaching the soft fabric of the towel. “May I ask you a question, my little warrior?”

“You just did, didn't you?” Steve jests, before glancing away only to meet the demon's gaze. Those silvery eyes undoubtedly have flecks of lust and affection within them. “Sure, you can ask me a question.”

“What's this?” Bucky gestures to the small, clear tube in the cadet's palm- but his eyes do not turn away from the blond's.

“Ah, um. Its... lube- uh, I mean lubricant. For, you know, um... _that._ I thought we could, like, well, I don't want to go all the way yet. So I thought maybe we could just, do _other stuff_. To try it out, I guess,” the blond stumbles, his voice becoming a low mumble but which the demon can hear ever so clearly. Refusing to meet the demon's gaze, Bucky can see his blush darken with each fumbled word. “You could, uh, yeah, and then I could just give you a blow job or a hand job or something. Unless you don't want to do this, but I thought you wanted to since that time... or we could just do what we usually do... If you even want to do that tonight. Or we could sleep, that’s fine too...”

“You want me to finger you?” The dark class says bluntly, and Steve can only stutter automatically in response.

“I- you shouldn't even know that term.”

“Humans do not exactly keep their sexual activities private. I overhear a lot of discussions,” the demon explains with amusement. But then Bucky becomes a little more serious, his voice filled with confidence that the cadet can only ever match in the battlefield. “So, do you want me to finger you?”

“I just thought that it would be better to do that here, now, rather than later at the academy,” the blond fumbles, averting his gaze so that he doesn't have to watch the demon staring at him so intently.

“Steve,” Bucky calls his name firmly, wrapping his fingers gently around the blond's wrists. “Do you _want_ me to?”

 _Does he?_ To the desire that clouds his mind, that seems like such a simple question.

“Yes,” Steve admits finally, though ever so softly.

“Okay, then.” The demon smirks, tugging on the younger man's wrists to pull onto the bed, the bottle of lube landing on the mattress beside them. A surprised gasp leaves the blond as he finds himself in the demon's arms; aligned with a warm, clothed chest.

“Wait! Wait,” the smaller man urgently requests, fists clinging onto the red fabric as if to stop the dark class from leaving his side. “What about you? Do you want to do this?”

“I want to do everything with you, Steve.” His answer is quick, like he doesn't even need to think about it. But, really, the blond shouldn't have to ask. If for a moment the cadet ignored his insecurities, he would feel through their bond that Bucky wants him too. In every way, shape and form.

Bucky would do anything _for_ him, and would do anything _with_ him.

Destroy every demon, or destroy every human.

Tackle every opposing force to allow them to permanently be bathed in each other's presence.

Protect him, make him feel safe and secure.

Drench him with affection and teasing remarks intended to make the blond smile.

And if Steve so commands it... If Steve expresses that he wants it just as much as Bucky does, then the demon will gladly lose himself in his sweet scent, intoxicating moans and the warmth of his depths. But only when Steve utters those consenting words.

He may encourage and push, as he certainly has done in the past. But never once, and never will, he force the younger man to do anything he doesn't want to.

Bucky gently pushes the cadet back against the soft covers, hovering over him as those silver eyes seem to glint in the dimness of the room. Just as the blond leans up to kiss the demon, Bucky pulls away with a knowing smirk. But any complaints die on the younger man's tongue as those thick muscles flex to haul the red jumper over his head to reveal the taut skin underneath. The sound of the material hitting the cadet's bag falls on deaf ears as their gazes lock, the dark class arching closer to at last allow the blond's eager, but nervous lips to grace his own.

Steve's fingers tentatively trace down the demon's muscular abdomen to the hem of his trousers, right hand dipping under the black fabric to rub at Bucky's cock through the confines of his underwear. The demon playfully nips the blond's lower lip in response before sitting back to rid himself of both items of clothing, leaving him stripped bare between the smaller man's calves.

Slender hands reach out for the demon, and Bucky smiles as he leans over the blond to nuzzle at the side of his pale throat. Fingers twist into dark strands as the demon kisses along the vein of Steve's neck, peppering his lips up to the blond's jaw and the sharp bone of his cheek. A tiny, relaxed sigh escapes from the younger man's lungs, and then (and only then) do Bucky's hands trail down to loosen the towel around his waist, allowing the two ends to rest at slim sides and underneath that small frame. Then the demon shifts to lay next to the blond, coercing Steve's body into his arms so that they remain facing each other. Bucky's metallic arm is pressed between the mattress and the silkiness of the blond's waist, while his right hand caresses atop Steve's jutting hip bone before sliding along the curve of his ass.

“I'll be gentle,” Bucky murmurs softly, “just tell me if you want to stop.”

The blond can feel the firm rub of the demon’s palm sliding over his skin, only to rest at the very back of his left thigh and the younger man can feel his own breath catch in his throat. Bucky’s warm fingers curl into the dip between his smooth thighs, sliding to the middle back of that soft flesh and (without any warning whatsoever) pulls that sleek muscle so that it hitches over his own leg in one effortless movement. Left knee pressed against Bucky’s right hip, they are so closely aligned, that the cadet can feel the heat radiating from every inch of the demon. Bucky’s hand continues to drift, but this time, he reaches to roam across his inner thigh, feeling the smooth skin melt beneath his fingertips.

That slight nervousness pulses in little waves from the younger man, and the dark class can feel that anxiety crawling over him as their bond tightens and reverberates between them. Bucky allows his hand to wander over pale skin, slowly, and not too far- getting the blond used to his touch and eventually the rapid beating of his heart becomes comforted into a blissful rhythm. Along the outer expanse of his left thigh, across his ass, over the sharp bump of his hipbone to the dip between his shoulder blades, then back down the little hills of vertebra to repeat the very same motion again and again.

Bucky gently kisses his jawline in an almost attention-seeking manner until Steve tilts his head up to stare innocently into the demon’s silver-flecked orbs. Blue eyes become obscured by dark lashes as his eyelids fall shut, their lips meeting in a sweet, languid kiss. No expectations… but _oh so hopeful_.

Steve’s mind is starting to become numb with traces of pure pleasure warming each and every one of his cells. As soon as the demon feels the younger man’s body truly relax under his fingertips, Bucky shifts to press the blond back against the mattress once more; his own legs nudging the cadet’s thighs apart to settle between them. Lips still connected, the blond barely registers the change- he merely feels the sensation of Bucky _dominating_ him _, protecting_ him as he carefully gives the demon another part of himself. A piece of himself he had never thought about putting in someone else’s hands. But, he trusts Bucky in a way he has never trusted anyone else before, and without the demon beside him, he honestly doesn’t see it within himself to trust another like how he trusts Bucky.

He undoubtedly trusts the demon with his life, however, it runs far deeper than that. Like an ingrained desire for the demon, and an innate faith that is yet to be torn apart and crumpled into the earth. Steve finds himself believing Bucky’s words without a second thought as to whether the demon may be spinning lies into the cobweb he has captured the little human in. He knows that the demon will protect him from the darkness of the rest of the world. Will fight for him and teach about his own realm that should remain a secret to non-demonic beings. Steve trusts him to do that, just as he trusts Bucky to be gentle and kind to him, careful and slow when the blond needs it most. To bring pleasure to him to the point of ecstasy; where his body no longer tenses with the anxieties that reside within his bones. He trusts Bucky not to take advantage of how easily he has become entwined with him- how their emotions combine and vibrate with the pulses of their bond.

Perhaps it is rather foolish of him, but he trusts Bucky with everything he could possibly even trust him with. Just as he has found a desire that has been ignited, and now burns brightly like a flame that refuses to be blown out by the harshness of the wind around it.

So… it is rather simple to conclude, that Steve is willing to give every part of himself to the demon.

Their lips remain connected, sliding against each other in a synchrony that soon becomes more passionate and full of longing with each quiet moan uttered. Steve's fingers tangle into Bucky's hair, one palm at the nape of his neck as if to steady himself rather than to hold the demon in place. Their minds are very much in tune: both craving that same closeness and gentle rocking of their bodies. In moments like this, they can forget everything else but each other.

The younger man gasps as Bucky breaks their kiss to leave little, wet pecks down the side of his throat; nipping his collarbone and trailing down to kiss the centre of his slowly rising and falling chest. The demon's lips trace over rosy petal-like patches of skin as he creates a single line of kisses down the cadet's stomach. His mouth nudging the edge of the pendant as his hands press against the blond's hips. Bucky allows his lips to briefly caress the blond's pink cock before looking up with a smirk to find the younger man watching him with blue eyes clouded with lust. So full of desire; that yearning for the demon that cannot help but become easily seen- for the sensation is felt by every fibre of his being.

Every cell. Every molecule. Every atom.

It runs through his veins with each _thump thump_ of his aching heart. Flowing throughout his entire form and permeating the air around them as if such great affection cannot be contained. But... it is fine if he cannot conceal such emotions, for the demon can barely contain his own.

Tenderly encouraging the younger man's legs to drift further apart, his knees somewhat lean against the demon's broad shoulders. The heat of the demon's lips upon the silkiest part of his inner thigh, gently biting and kissing the soft flesh feels like a candle is being held to his skin. But that warmth spreads through him like nothing else as a reddened, wet mark is left marring his otherwise porcelain-like surface. Bucky can smell the fading scent of soap, taste it on his tongue mixed with a faint saltiness that is more sweet than anything where the dark class is concerned.

A low whine escapes the smaller man, Bucky's hands firmly gliding up his thighs to rest at his hips; just as the demon leans back over the him to meet the blond's bitten lips. Bucky's fingers leave paths of lava-like warmth against his flesh, that heat oozing into his core to ignite the flickering spark of electricity in his chest.

Bucky's right hand slips back to the blond's very inner thigh, ghosting over that pink tainted patch and wandering just that little bit higher. Steve's body tenses automatically as Bucky's fingers trace across the blond's hole, eliciting a gasp that the demon gladly absorbs. The backs of the younger man's knees hang on the demon's hips, his calves wrapping around the demon's waist in an subconscious effort to ground himself.

Steve doesn't tell him to stop.

_He wants this._

Bucky shifts back, leaving the blond's lips tingling with the loss to take in the view before him- of the cadet's open legs without any trace of fear, but brimming with desire. Their bond vibrates in steady, but quickening pulses as if the quivers are increasing with each new wave of desire.

Metallic hand taking hold of the tube of lubricant, the high-pitched click of the cap opening sends a shiver down Steve's spine. The demon squeezes a little onto the fingertips of his right hand, the gel-like substance becoming warmer from the heat that constantly radiates from the dark class as if his cells are made of burning coals. Steve can feel his exhale catching in his throat as Bucky rubs the slick substance where his fingers had been just a moment ago- not penetrating, just allowing the blond to get used to the foreign sensation.

The demon can hear his nervous breath slowly slipping between the cadet's lips as Bucky's middle fingers traces his delicate rim. The dark class can sense his... its not quite uncertainty, but more akin to apprehension and _eagerness._

 _“Bucky,_ ”the blond moans the demon's name as if it gives him pleasure by merely saying it.

With a smirk, he hovers over the blond once more, casting the younger man in his shadow as his metallic hand lays flat on the mattress beside those thin ribs. Steve's arms instinctively wrap around the back of the demon's neck to pull him closer, desperate for their lips to meet in that now very familiar way. But, its careless this time; though still full of passion as if they simply cannot breathe without the other being pressed against them.

Their bodies remain connected through their bond, no matter how close or far apart they are. Though, when its like this -heated and needy- they can only yearn for their bodies to become entwined to the point of ecstasy. Like how the earth longs for the sun, there is a need to feel the warmth that radiates from the other as if they surely cannot survive without that intimacy.

Bucky traces the rim of Steve's opening, waiting for the blond to let out a breathy moan of impatience before allowing his middle finger to ever so slowly press into that tight heat. Only to the first knuckle and no further, before pulling back out, to then gently insert his finger again. Rubbing against the warmth of Steve's walls, soft like silk and wet around him.

Their lips part to allow their foreheads to hover millimetres apart, and Steve watches the demon through hazy eyes, his breaths more calm than the beating of his heart. Bucky's touch doesn't feel bad, strange perhaps, but filled with a tentative promise that soothes him as his body sinks into the mattress. With a low hum, the demon pulls his hand away entirely. The blond hears, more than sees Bucky drip more of the lubricant onto his fingers before those slick digits smooth over his entrance.

But, this time, Steve can feel Bucky very slowly press two fingers past that ring of pink muscle. The blond gasps at the stretch and the demon stills his movements, but he does not remove his fingers. Instead, his invisible shadows caress every inch of the smaller man's form- just like how the sun's rays provide a relief to the ache of winter. Not a single part of Steve feels any pain. Not even a tiny piece, even though there should at least be a faint hint of pain. But... there is nothing but the beginnings of pleasure whirring inside of him.

In curiosity, the demon tentatively moves his fingers insides the cadet's warmth, rubbing against his soft walls in tiny circular motions. Pressing kisses to the blond's jaw as those slender arms remain looped around the demon's neck. Until, suddenly, Steve tightens around his fingers and his back arches just that little bit in surprise as his lips part in a gasp.

“Ah!” The blond whines, a wave of pleasure flourishing across his body like electricity in the sky during the storm. The only thing he can do next is moan the demon's name as if that is the only thing Steve ever truly needs to utter. _“Bucky.”_

“That feel good?” The demon whispers into the cadet's ear, voice deep and oozing with confidence. Dripping with affection and this _heat_ , as if Bucky's words are gracing the deepest parts of him.

“Mmm,” Steve says quietly, nails scratching the muscular expanse of Bucky's back to leave little indents that disappear as quickly as they are made. Like tiny crescent moons that become overwhelmed by the shadows of the sky until there isn't even a trace of them left.

Bucky keeps stroking that same spot over and over, and each time, the blond's moans get that little bit louder. Dark vines of shadows run along the walls around them, so dense and yet unseen as they contain their noises while the misty rays of the moon and stars seep into the room to bathe their toes in silver light. Although the streets are cracking with ice and frozen waste, Steve's body feels incredible warm under the demon's attention. Bucky's fingers curling inside of him, stroking him gently with nothing but the intention to make Steve come apart underneath him....It-

“ _Feels good..._ ”Steve babbles, not truly aware of what he is saying. “So good.”

“Yeah?” The demon says softly, nipping at his earlobe before nuzzling against the side of the blond's throat. “You look so beautiful right now.”

Steve's hands slide down the demon's firm chest to grip the fabric of the covers, nails digging into the sheets as his neck arches against the pillow. His breaths becoming high-pitched gasps as the movement of Bucky's fingers become that fraction more rough. Its not just that the little spot inside on him is being touched over and over that makes his body feel as if he is in pure bliss... but that _Bucky_ is the one doing it.

The blond's slender hips jolt on their own, seeking out more of that persistent pleasure that is swelling inside of him. The demon's metallic hand adjusts to rest on the smaller man's stomach to keep him in place- though he can still feel his body push against the pressure of the warm metal. A disapproving whine slips past the cadet's lips before it turns into a drawn-out moan.

Pre-come leaks in little cloudy droplets from the pink tip of the blond's cock, and Bucky is just as hard from the sight of the younger man becoming a writhing mess. His moans are like a siren's beckoning song, calling to the demon's most basic instincts with rhythmic, wanton notes.

“ _Bucky...”_

The sensation of the demon's fingers almost sliding out of him, only to press back in and caress along his walls is overwhelming, and Steve can already feel himself on the edge of pleasure to cascade into ecstasy. Biting at his lower lip, Bucky uses the pad of his metallic thumb to trace against that reddened skin to persuade the blond to let out more of those intoxicating moans. His shadows suffocate their sounds- absorbing them before they can stream through the cracks of the door. It is almost as if they are the only two beings in their own bubble of darkness and desire.

“I know, Steve,” Bucky purrs, his voice low and yet it resonates loudly in the younger man's ear as the demon's words flatter him. “You look so perfect like this. So _zygu_.” 

“Bucky,” the blond moans. The demon's warmth surrounds every fibre of his being, and yet his body burns with an indescribable heat and electrifying energy. He has become lost in the sensation; his mind numb and yearning for something Steve is unsure of. _“Fuck.”_

The demon can feel the smaller man's body tightening around his fingers as his muscles tense and a shiver courses down his spine to pool at his inner thighs and leaking cock. Letting out a throaty hum, silver-flecked eyes gaze down at the blond and the fluorescent aura shinning through the darkness. As if fragments of the sun have been captured in those particles surrounding the cadet.

Bucky tentatively wraps his metallic hand around Steve's cock, smearing pre-come as his thumb runs over the tip. The blond can only let out high-pitched moans in response, hips nudging against the demon to get more of that friction.

“Ah! Don't stop,” the cadet whines, breathless as his words come out on a single gasp.“Please don't stop.”

The feel of Steve's pleasure throbs through their bond in vibrant, forceful waves over the demon- the sensation almost as if that bliss originates from his own dark form. But instead, their embedded connection has created a bridge for their emotions to cross and spread.

And it feels amazingly _good._

With gentle pumping motions, it's not long until Steve's back arches; the demon's name voiced in his moans as his release coats silver fingers and a pale abdomen. Marring his once unblemished, smooth skin with a white stickiness. Bucky continues gently stroking Steve's cock, working him through his orgasm and curling his fingers against his walls until those sharp hips come to a grinding stop.

Panting with his ecstasy, the blond's struggled breaths soon escape as a deep exhale between parted pink lips, his body relaxing as the tension in his muscles fade. Sliding his slick fingers from the cadet's warmth, the demon only half-heartedly wipes the remains of lubricant onto the towel; his gaze too focused on the younger man's red lips and blue eyes hidden by a rim of dark lashes.

Planting his hands beside the cadet's head on the pillow, the dark class looks down at him until those cloudy blue eyes finally stare back into his own silver-flecked ones. The pendant still rests upon the blond's quickly rising and falling chest, almost like a brand of the demon's essence upon his skin.

Steve's legs wrap around the demon's thighs more firmly, pulling him closer as their hips align. Bucky's lips are so close, that the cadet's rosy cheeks are shadowed by the demon, their sweet breaths entwining in their warmth and fluttering against each other's faces.

~~This is it. This is everything Steve wants.~~

~~This moment of quiet. This moment of fulfilment and sense of...~~

~~_Belonging._ ~~

“Want me to jerk you off?” Steve asks quietly, his voice slightly hoarse as their lips brush one another with every word.

“You don't need to do that,” the demon says before leaving a small kiss on the corner of the younger man's mouth.

“I think I do,” the blond murmurs with a blush. Slender fingers trail down the demon's chest until they reach the tip of Bucky's hardened cock as if to emphasise his point. “And besides... I want to make you feel good too.”

“My little warrior, how can I possibly resist you?” It is not a question that needs answering.

Their lips meet in passionate, and languid kiss as Steve's hand wraps around the demon's cock. His messy strokes providing the dark class with relief as Bucky ever so slightly rocks into the friction of the blond's palm. The demon's thoughts are clouded by the younger man's scent that hangs heavy in the air around them. Dense and saccharine-like, akin to honey dripping onto his tongue and it is only sweeter with his ecstasy.

Bucky nuzzles down the cadet's throat to the crook of his shoulder, breathing against the skin there as Steve's fingers rub the length of his cock. It doesn't take long until the demon comes onto the blond's already white-stained stomach; letting out a guttural moan. In a moment of loss of self control, the demon bites just that little too harshly on the younger man's shoulder.

A sharp gasp escapes the blond, though not from the now red mark upon his skin, but the warmth of the demon's come mixing with his own. The shadows around the room appear to be dancing, swirling across their forms even though Steve cannot see them tangling with their limbs. The indents upon the cream of his shoulder fail to emit any pain, but the blond finds himself listening to the demon's gruff apology regardless.

“I didn't mean to bite you so hard.” Bucky presses a kiss to angry mark, and after a moment, the skin heals to a pale pink hue, becoming smooth once more.

“Its fine, doesn't hurt...” Steve mumbles, his non-slick hand gripping the nape of the demon's to pull him in for a kiss. Just a few breathless slides of their lips as if to show just how amazing and... just how _good_ that had felt. “Fuck... I'm gonna need a shower again.”

Their actions surely cannot be wrong.

Steve feels it deep within his chest.

~~Bucky is a part of him.~~

They are a part of each other.

Their bond surely cannot be damaged or broken- it can only grow stronger.

“I could just lick you clean,” Bucky half-heartedly jokes.

“Don't you dare,” the blond giggles as the demon licks a stripe along his throat. Bucky can taste the saltiness of his skin, and the saccharine sweetness of his scent.

“Let me take a shower with you then,” the demon bargains as he leans back to allow the cadet to sit up.

“Its not a big shower,” Steve quips, his thighs still resting around the demon's even as he pushes himself up to meet his gaze.

“I don't mind,” Bucky smirks. The dark class takes a corner of the towel into his grasp, wiping the cadet's abdomen in gentle motions. Steve mutters a shy thank you, a blush arising on his cheeks as that confidence begins to fade.

Shifting his legs from around the demon and swinging them over the edge of the bed, the blond stands up- or rather, he attempts to do so. Almost as soon as he lifts himself up, the blond can feel the weakness in his legs. Not even one step and they give way, only for the younger man to be captured in the demon's arms. Steve automatically leans into the touch, and even as his legs straighten out, Bucky doesn't let go.

“Thanks,” the blond mumbles, eyes gliding up the demon's chest to meet that devilish smirk. Bucky hums in a nonchalant reply, metallic fingers leaving the cadet's waist to wander to the pendant that glimmers in the light of the room.

Steve bats the demon's hand away playfully, as if to say _'I didn't once take it off'._

With a small smile, the demon watches the blond grab the towel; wrapping it loosely around his waist, so that their combined release doesn't smear against his skin. And as if to remind himself of what they had just done (not that either of them particularly need reminding) he takes the lube that had been abandoned on the bed. Steve paces coyly around the demon to the door, pausing with his fingers on the handle to meet the demon's predator-like gaze. Completely unsure of himself, but the demon understands the fleck of anxiety that wells within his chest.

Not wanting to be apart, yet trusting the other to return to their side.

“Meet me in the bathroom.” Its not a command, just... a hopeful statement.

“Your mother is asleep,” Bucky says simply.

“That is still no reason for me to allow you to walk down the hallway naked,” Steve reprimands. “I'll see you in a second.” The cadet opens the door and slips through, quickly tip-toeing down the corridor and into the bathroom without so much as a creak of a floorboard.

Fiddling in the dark for the switch, the cadet doesn't jump when the light flashes in the room to reveal a form standing next to him. Slipping the towel from his waist, the cadet makes an awkward mental note to himself to wash it first thing in the morning. After placing the lube back into its original place -very aware of the demon's stare upon his form- the cadet carefully steps into the small, square shower cubicle. Its side are all made of glass from where it protrudes from the grey-tiled wall, its ridges lined with metal.

Barely a second later, the blond can feel the demon press against his back, sliding the shower door shut as Steve turns the dial to release warm water upon them. Bucky is so close, even though there is technically just enough room for them to stand comfortably next to each other. Their auras twist and blend around them as if a mist has enveloped them in both colour and shadows.

A sigh leaves the smaller man's lips as his head leans back to rest on the demon's chest as Bucky's arms simultaneously wrap around his waist. The demon washes the smaller man: his hands tentatively rubbing lavender soap across the curves of Steve's body. In turn, the blond washes the demon's hair, only to lay his head on one of those broad shoulders as one of Bucky's fingers press against his hole. Easily sliding in with the remaining lubricant- there is nothing sexual about the demon's intentions, but his actions seem to be driven by a need to care and tend to the younger man.

It feels as if there are no barriers between them, albeit there are perhaps many secrets.

With little kisses they wrap warm towels around themselves, that are only discarded on the floor once they quietly creep down the hallway, absorbed in their own world. Bathed in the darkness of Steve's room, without a single piece of fabric between them, the blond rests in the demon's arms. Warm and cosy, like that, they both fall asleep as if the world doesn't wish to tear them apart...

       

There is that darkness again.

Shifting underneath his bare feet and entangling their heated tendrils around his ankles.

Even if he hasn't seen it in a while, Steve can instantly recognise those sinister shadows. For in their depths, glare two blue orbs that evoke nothing but fear. As if they are two daggers slicing deep into his bare skin.

Steve slowly steps back, but no more than a few paces and his left wrist is yanked forward. His gaze lands upon a thick, silver shackle around his wrist, connected to the ground by a single trail of heavy chains. Jerking his hand in an attempt to slip free, the cadet swears under his breath as he remains tightly chained. The blond glances up to find those eyes still watching him, scowling at him as if his mere presence displeases them.

It feels like sharp nails are scratching cold shivers along his spine, filling his body with a dread he has never felt before. Steve grabs the middle of the chain links with both hands, tugging and pulling his weight back in the hope of dislodging it from the black, sandy terrain. But, then he finally hears it.... the screaming.

Like a thousand echoing voices of pain and suffering.

The screams of those being subjected to _torture._

They surround him, blocked out by the shadows and yet they seem close enough for Steve to reach out and touch their source. Loud and strangled, high-pitched and deep shrieks and shouts that radiate nothing but terror.

Desperate to escape, the blond yanks at the chain again, looking up to find those eyes staring at him. But they are closer. Much closer. They blend in with the darkness around them, concealing the form they belong to. A deafening scream resounds right behind him, and the cadet falls to his knees; hands clasped over his ears and eyes shut tightly as he grimaces from the overbearing pitch.

This isn't real.

_This isn't real._

But it _feels real._

When the blond dares a look up, those eyes are right in front of him, and there is a warm breath ghosting his face.

“Weayae-tez,” it growls, voice gruff and animalistic, and Steve can feel wet spots dash across his face from its rumbled words- spoken in nothing but a demonic tongue.

Steve instantly jolts back, but as he does so, he finds himself exposed to an entirely different darkness. Just one blink, and the blond is startling awake, sitting up in bed with the morning sun barely slipping through the curtains as he pants for breath. The blond immediately reaches for the lamp beside him and the dim golden light filters into the room.

He feels incredibly _cold_ , even as Bucky stirs awake next to him.

Confused by the cadet's quick _thud thud thud_ of his heart, the demon calls out his name. Twice. But, Steve doesn't hear it as his eyes adjust to the light, not until Bucky grabs his arm. With a shocked gasp, the blond quickly turns to find the demon's concerned expression. Before the younger man can utter any words of an explanation, the dark class merely envelops him in his arms, laying them gently down and bringing Steve's smaller form against his chest.

They stay like that until the sun truly emerges in the sky, neither talking as Steve slowly forgets the dream bit by bit. Becoming a distance memory that he doesn't understand.

When Steve eventually decides that they better get up, they dress and sit awkwardly at the table eating lunch with Sarah when she arrives back from her early morning shift. His mother gives them this all-too-wise look that seems rather mischievous with her smile. The cadet gets his bag ready once more after they've eaten, and then, all that is left is to say goodbye to his mother.

She hugs him tightly, tears welling up in her eyes even though she refuses to let them fall. Steve almost can't bear to pull away from her hold, but the academy demands his return.

There is still much work to be done.

“Just be careful, sweetheart. The both of you.”

“Of course, Ma. I'll be back home before you know it,” the blond tries to convince her. But, in reality, they both know that it will be a while until the cadet is able to return to her arms once more.

“I hope so, it's a dangerous world we live in,” she says to them, words tinted with grief.

“Don't worry, ma'am, I'll make sure nothing happens to Steve,” the demon assures her with a smile.

“Thank you, James.” Sarah returns the smile, oblivious to the fact that one of the creatures she fears is right in front of her, vowing to protect her only son.

Steve's mother watches them leave, and as soon as they begin to descend down the stairs (out of her line of sight) the blond retrieves the demon's shirt from his bag.

“Don't get caught,” is all the blond says as he hands Bucky the top of his uniform.

The demons nods once, hesitating as they stand on the stairs. Their gazes meet and say what isn't expressed in words, and Steve finds himself closing his eyes as Bucky leans down to lightly kiss the blond's lips.

The press of lips barely last a few seconds before the demon breaks it, and the blond opens his eyes to find an empty warmth where he had stood. While the demon's eyes meet the staleness of the containment walls.

He feels trapped in the room. Enclosed, even though he knows that he can escape. It reminds Bucky of things he rather forget. But, he waits there. Standing in one place with his stare on the door, listening to the noises of the building, until...

Until, eventually, he hears the sound of footsteps.

Distant at first, but with each step, the pace gets that little bit faster as they reach his containment cell. Electrical beeps and whirrs trigger the lock mechanisms, allowing the door to slide open to reveal the being he has been waiting for.

Neither can quite get rid of the smiles on their faces.

       

Although it is the end of January, the air is still bitter cold, regardless of ice becoming a layer of water under their feet. The bonded pair are walking to the entrance of the academy so that the _Avengers_ and _Hydra_ can go on their second field mission- seeing as the last one went so terribly wrong.

The cadets are still haunted by that day, though there are yet many days of bloodshed to come which will never be forgotten. They can only hope that they will be the ones to survive.

“Try not to scare the low level demons off this time, okay?” Steve jests with a grin, glancing up at his demon only to find him gone from his side. The cadet jolts to a stop, looking behind at their trail from the dorms to find Bucky a few paces behind him.

The dark class stands still, gaze cast over his shoulder and surveying the orange horizon. His muscles are tense, eyes a scowl as he ignores the blond's footsteps getting closer. There's no one else around- no other soldiers nearby and certainly none of their bonded demons. Its quiet, and that silence raises the hairs on Steve's skin.

“Bucky?” The blond calls to the demon, coming to a stumbled stop just in-front of the dark class. His expression a mix of entangled confusion with concerned as he peers up at the fiend.

Bucky can feel it.

A power.

A familiar presence.

Not one he fears, but one which he cannot allow to walk freely.

The demon's eyes analyse every object and shadow in view, scanning and dismissing irrelevant substances. He knows exactly what to look for.

Steve can pick up the faint sound of shouting in the distance, but that isn't exactly something unusual. Except that... the voices sound like they are full of fear. The cadet can't figure out what they are saying, but his demon knows.

Suddenly, Bucky grabs his bicep, pulling the smaller man against his chest. Those enormous feathered wings rip through the black stitches of his shirt, where they had broken through the fabric once before. Dark feathers curl around the blond like a protective wall, blocking out his surroundings like the beginnings of his nightmares.

A thin beam of burning hot light shoots past the corners of the demon's eyes onto the surface of his wings. Steve can feel the heat radiate through the feathered barrier almost as if a piece of the sun had fallen towards them. The ray disappears as quickly as it had ripped through the air, and the dark class grimaces as the ends of the feathers the light had touched smoulder and crust like black charcoal.

The dark class lowers his wings just enough to perceive the demon coming towards them.

“Manifest the shield, and stay back,” Bucky whispers the command to the cadet, though there is an anger to his tone.

Confused, Steve stays in place as his demon lets go of him to stand in front of the younger man, which is when he finally gets a glance at the _light class demon._

The demon stops twenty feet from them, and Steve instantly recognises it, even though their physical appearance has been altered. The light class is adorned in a brown, armour like shirt that cuts off at the arms, and black trousers that are frayed and torn at the edges. Their long, golden hair has been cut and even shaved in some places, almost as if to emphasise the two red paint-like lines that trail down the left side of his face and neck.

But, most distinctly, the demon is no longer wrapped in chains inscribed with symbols to binds their arms and legs. He walks free, in his hand a silver hammer with dashes and dots of blood still wet at the face of the weapon. Blue sparks of electricity bounce to and from the weapon and the demon, his eyes so much brighter than Steve remembers.

The air around them seems to change, the gentle wind is picking up to become more forceful, as if the tension between the two demons is seeping into the environment.

The light class growls, eyes solely on Bucky who hides the cadet from sight, and then... Steve's heart has never been so _afraid_ as the other demon speaks.

“Zah,” the light class rumbles, voice so deep it vibrates in his chest,“qae teaeae-see oh-raoheay-fe.”

Bucky says nothing at first, and the demon laughs, a light laughter full of electricty as if finding something amusing. His words spoken in foreign tongue, the cadet doesn't even have the faintest idea as to what the demon had said.

“Raah,” Bucky says lowly at last, something that the blond understands. He is telling the light class to _leave._

The other demon laughs once more, before his blue, glimmering eyes fall upon the cadet. Steve gasps, those eyes burn right through him, making him sick to his stomach and his throat dry as if he hasn't tasted water in days.

“Wae eayz teaeoh,” the dark class bitterly snarls, drawing the other demon's attention back to him. For once, Bucky's sole focus is not on the cadet, but upon a being he wishes to eradicate. The other demon is stepping into territory the dark class will defend with his life. His priority is to always protect Steve, and the light class is a threat to that goal.

_Threats must be extinguished._

“Weayz zahee-de eayz ooah-aelz?”The light class cocks his head like a confused dog, before appearing to disregard Bucky's words. Steve knows that his words are said nothing but mockingly. “Eh-seez fah-see.”

Bucky growls, little tendrils of shadows forming around his metallic arm. The other demon merely smiles wickedly, his gaze meeting the cadet's and riddling him with fear. Steve knows that both demons can hear the _thump thump thump_ of his terrified heart beating erratically.

Then, the demon turns serious, he glares at them, his next words a bite and there is no doubt that it is a threat intended purely for Bucky.

“Teohooxae ee-see ohee-bay-luoff-see yot-tae.”

Something about the demon's words snap a cord of self-control in the dark class. In an instant, Bucky's wings flex, and all of a sudden, he makes a blinding move towards the other demon. So quick, that the cadet is forced to take a step back from the rapid movement of his wings.

In that moment, a swirl of dark shadows surround them, encasing both demons and human in their warmth. Steve only had a second to see a pair of white-feathered wings protrude from the other demon: shorter than Bucky's, more curved at the bottom with larger, yet less abundant feathers.

Now, the blond can no longer sees the buildings as he manifests the shield. Holding the weapon close to protect himself, he can hear a distinct growling and a crackling sound as flecks of light flash amongst the darkness. Disappearing, only to emerge somewhere else amongst the mist. The cadet is certain that he glimpses Bucky's wings, but with the shadows thick around him, Steve cannot be truly sure.

In the haze, the blond depicts flecks of purple fire where Bucky must be. But, so focused on that light, the cadet doesn't see the beam of white that crashes into his shield. The force of the ray sends him a few paces back, unsettling his balance, only for Steve to quickly regain it. The light is abruptly engulfed by shadows, relieving the blond of its fierce strength.

No more than a couple minutes could have possibly passed, until the shadows finally clear to reveal a silence that echoes death- where the dark, has slaughtered the tainted light.


	31. Your Shadows Keep Me Safe From The Darkness Of The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Thirty:  
> **Steve and Bucky shared a moment of intimacy ;)  
> **Steve had a nightmare again  
> **Bucky had a confrontation with the light class demon.

The shadows have vanished, and Steve can't quite believe the sight before him. Immersed in the morning light, a scene of unfathomable death that reeks of nothing but chaos. The kind of destruction, that could not have been caused by anything, but a demon.

The light class demon is limp upon the ground, eyes glossed over by a hazy white cloud- the depths of his irises lacking any form of life. He remains in human form, except... those white wings lay open either side of him like a dead bird. Many of the feathers have turned black in the centre, as if they have been soaked in dark ink, and underneath them are tiny particles of black sand. A pool of pink blood seeps around his form, tarnished with blue, unmistakably his own.... However, that dark hue should not be there, which only makes the cadet terrified about what types of experiments the academy has performed on the demon.

That blood stains through the ripped fabric of the demon's chest, tinting the edges of pale lips and it undoubtedly drips from the metallic arm of the dark class. Bucky stands tall, staring down at the other demon with his own wings hanging against his broad shoulders like black, dusty jewels. His hair conceals glowing silver eyes- though no matter the vibrancy they shine with, there are shadows within them akin to those seen in the eyes of someone without any guilt for their actions. The eyes of someone who has no mercy.

The shield in Steve's hand dissipates into fragments of black until they too dissolve into the air. Sure that the other demon is deceased, the dark class slowly turns to the cadet and Steve... he has never seen Bucky with such an expression of _anger._ The blond can depict it in the creases of his brow and the firm line of his lips. But, as his gaze falls upon the younger man, the demon's expression becomes one of tenderness and devotion.

Other soldiers and their demons reach them, including the _Avengers, Hydra_ and Fury, but none of them get too close to the dark class and his cadet. Their faces are a mixture of horror and amusement, utterly bewildered by the sight laid out before them. All except for Fury, whose brows are furrowed with his arms folded, scrutinising the scene and every one of its details.

The old soldier's eyes flicker to Bucky who still stands next to the deceased demon, taking note of those dark wings that already appear to be healing. His own demon is beside him in human form, cowering with slumped soldiers as are seemingly all of the other demons. Fury is quick to analyse and come to his own conclusions, but still, he turns to the blond, voice harsh and demanding.

“Cadet, what level is your demon?”

“Uh, it was last measured at level fifty five, sir,” Steve hesitantly replies, instantly regretting it as Fury's stare hardens.

“Well, clearly that's wrong,” Fury scowls, head tilting towards the dark class who finally stalks closer to his human, leaving the light class dead on the ground. “He killed that level eighty demon in a mere few minutes.”

Steve has no clue as to what his reply should be, so instead he glances at Bucky as he approaches the blond, blood dripping from the silver plates of his arm.

“How did you get him to do it?”Fury demands.

“Sir?” Steve's eyes widen at the gruff tone.

“How did you get your demon to fight for you?” The older soldier confirms, staring the cadet down like how a snake may watch its prey before striking.

“I-”

“Perhaps we should talk in my office.”Fury turns to face the rest of the cadets, leaving the blond flushed and stuttering. “Go back to the dorms, the mission is cancelled.”

The young cadets, especially Sam, glance at Steve anxiously before they begin a hesitant stroll back to the dorms.

“Sir, what shall we do with the light class?” Another soldier asks, younger than Fury, but surely older than the cadets. The sweat upon his forehead suggests that he had just come from the laboratories, and that he had failed to stop the demon.

“Take its body back to the labs, open it up. Report back to me,” Fury responds curtly.

“Yes, sir.”

“Rogers, follow me,” the old soldier instructs, swiftly turning on his heels- his demon following obediently behind his long strides.

Steve looks up to discover the dark class watching him with silver, willing eyes; obeying the silent command without a second thought. They saunter after Fury, the cadet only glancing over his shoulder once to find scientists manoeuvring the limp body of the light class.

Winding through numerous buildings, they reach a part of the academy Steve hasn't ventured to before. Fury leads them to a wide, stretching facility. Its metallic structure is short, but is wider than the dorms combined, making the building seem rather menacing. They step into the main entrance that is surely big enough to fit two vehicles through at the same time. Guarded by two armed soldiers standing either side ready to check Ids; one of them asks for Steve's before Fury quickly interrupts.

“Its fine, he's with me.”

The soldier looks at them warily, as if unsure, but he doesn't question it as he gives Steve a pitiful look as they pass by. The cadet doesn't know what to make of that as he finds himself in a silver elevator, its walls reflecting the outline of their forms as blue beams of light shine upon them. A slight jolt and the rays disappear as the elevator rumbles under their feet. Steve can feel it in his stomach that they are going down deep into the earth.

The four of them stand close together, though Fury's demon is practically pressed against the wall- as far away from the dark class it can get. He can smell the foul stench of blood that is slowly drying into the plates of Bucky's arm. Steve doesn't dare ask where exactly they are going in fear of getting some snappy response, but he does silently think to himself that they must be travelling fairly far underground.

Without so much as turning to look at the blond and his demon, Fury makes an observation that makes it feel as if freezing water is running down the cadet's spine.

“My demon seems to be uncomfortable around yours.”

Fury doesn't expect a response, which is just as well, for the blond has no idea what he would have said in reply. Steve must be cautious with what he allows to come to light, for a string of poorly chosen words could put him in an awkward, or even devastating situation.

The doors slide open with a drawn-out squeak to reveal a long corridor with four soldiers in grey evenly spread out along its sides. At the very end is a double door that one of the soldiers open as soon as she notices Fury approaching, allowing both demons and cadet through as well. Steve can feel her stare fixated on the dark class, and the black wings that still rest against his back.

Steve is momentarily blinded as they enter an enormous white-metal room, with four thick columns dotted evenly around as if to give support to its size. The facility is big enough to fit several large fighter jets within it, although its space remains empty. The cadet can only see a dozen or so soldiers and scientists working around what Steve believes to be a set up of another gateway at one side of the room. But the machinery is far bigger than what is used when bonding cadets to their demons. The blond cranes his neck up to look at it; the skeleton of the gateway is more than fifteen metres in diameter, with symbols only just now being etched into its surface.

The cadet continues to follow Fury across the stretch of the room, glancing up at his demon to find Bucky's eyes focused on the gateway. Sensing the blond's gaze, the demon turns his attention back to the smaller man with an all-too-neutral expression plastered on his face.

At the other end of the platform is a second hallway, longer than the previous one as they make their way to the very last door into an office. Screens embedded into each wall flash to life to display statistics as soon as Fury enters. There is a metallic desk with a complex computer system situated atop it, with a tiny room situated to the left of it- observed through a window with a single black painted symbol on the glass. Steve can only assume that it is a private, specialised containment room.

Fury settles into the metallic, swivel chair at the desk; leaning against its back to watch the younger man with a harsh, scrutinising stare. The old soldier's eye track the cadet and the dark class demon as they come to stand at attention, a little ways off from the human on the other side of the desk.

“If I was a man intimidated by the unknown, I would break your bond,” Fury states simply, his own demon tensing restlessly beside him.

Steve feels himself freeze in place, an icy shock sliding down his spine as his heart stutters. He can't even imagine it... can't even remember... not being bonded with Bucky. There's that ache even just trying to comprehend what it would be like to be cut off from the demon. To be torn away from his arms as their bond severs and his body fills with an insane agony.

“I would have broken it the same day it was made, and I would break it now.” The old soldier's gaze flickers to the dark class demon, who meets it just as unwaveringly. As if they are both sizing up the other like two animals getting ready for a fight.“But... I do not fear the unknown. And I certainly don't fear that mutt of yours.”

Bucky doesn't fear the old soldier either.

But Fury is a fool to not be afraid of the dark class- he most definitely should be.

“However, I do have some concerns...”

It happens too quickly for it to register as a warning in the cadet's mind: for Fury to pull a gun from his waist and aim it at the younger man's chest. Sleek and black, with a rusted silver symbol inscribed on its side.

Steve isn't prepared when Fury pulls the trigger.

The gunshot rings loud, echoing like a siren of death. But within that same second, Bucky shifts, moving as a form of dark tendrils of shadows as he forms in front of the cadet, metallic hand clenched in a fist adjacent to his own chest.

The room goes silent, albeit there is still a sharp ringing in Steve's ears.

Like a heart monitor for an organ that has just stopped beating.

“I don't believe there to be an issue here, but perhaps,” Fury pauses as if to conjure up the right word. “An unusual circumstance.”

Bucky's hand unclenches, and a silver bullet falls from his palm, crushed, and it lands on the floor with a high-pitched bounce, only to roll across the floor in front of them.

“Your demon protects you. Willingly fights for you.” The old soldier shakes his head as if that mere action makes the situation less difficult to comprehend. “That is something that has never been heard of. Although I doubt it is because of your compatibility, I don't see any other reason for it.”

Unsure if that is his cue to start talking, the cadet refuses to open his mouth in fear of blurting out words he can't take back. But, he doesn't need to say anything at all. Fury is calculating like the dark class and cruel with his observations. Although perhaps a fool in his lack of fear, he is wise in what he can deduce.

“Unless it has something to do with you never once putting your demon in containment at night while you sleep?” Fury accuses

Of course Fury knows that Steve hasn't ever locked Bucky up in the demon-dorms. The cadet isn't naïve enough to assume that at some point, he may be called out on that fact. Now, he can only hope that he isn't told to stop. Because not sleeping in his Bucky's arms... Steve doesn't doesn't even want to consider that.

As if not expecting an answer from the speechless cadet, Fury continues:

“Just making an observation. But I have seen enough for today, you and your demon can go.”

As soon as he is dismissed, the cadet turns on his heels to head for the door, his demon only a step behind him.

“Although, Rogers.”

“Yes, sir?” Steve pauses just outside the room, looking back over his shoulder to find Fury standing, though he doesn't move away from the desk. It reminds the blond of a vulture waiting for a sick animal to die.

“I want your demon's level recalculated. Go get that done with Doctor Hill tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

Scurrying out the door with Bucky right behind him, they ignore the curious looks soldiers give them as they pass by. His heart still throbs loudly against his ribs, and it pounds in his head with as much violence as the gunshot had, even as the elevator whirs and screeches around them.

The air outside seems warm compared to how cold Steve feels.

        

“You killed him,” Steve declares as soon as the door to his room clicks shut behind them. The dark class looks to him with a blunt curiosity, though his thin lips suggest a disinterest in such a topic.

“He threatened you,” Bucky shrugs, arms about to fold before thinking better of staining his shirt with the blood that sticks to the metal of his left hand. Black, feathered wings shuffle at his sides, as if they wish to stretch out into the warm, shadow-filled air of the room.

“You knew him,” the blond tries to reason with the demon. His blue orbs gaze up into Bucky's whose eyes remain silver, almost making it seem as if Steve is staring into two star-lit moons.

“He threatened you,” the demon repeats, perhaps with a little more bite to emphasise his point.

“What did he say to you?” Steve asks, demanding. The feel of being in the midst of the unknown is not something the cadet can deal with elegantly. His mind is tormented with the endless, haunting possibilities.

“He threatened you.”

“Damn it, Bucky! There's more to it than that, I'm not a fool! Tell me exactly what he said,” the blond snaps, voice raised in irritation.

“No,” the demon responds as gently as he can; considering that his shadows are still pitch-black in his veins from the adrenaline of the fight with the light class.

“No? Are you fucking kidding me?” The younger man scoffs, only for the dark class to remain silent in reply, those silver eyes averting to look out the window.“Bucky!”

“What?” The demon's attention returns to the human coldly.

“Tell me, _please,”_ the blond begs, raw and rigid. Although the demon isn't immune to those vibrant, entrancing eyes, there are some situations where he needs to be more stubborn than the little blond warrior who refuses to back down. There are some circumstances, where Steve needs to be reminded that the demon is a creature that cannot ever truly be commanded or controlled.

“I said no,” Bucky growls. Just loud and deep enough for the blond to feel it vibrate into his own lungs.

The cadet scowls, arms across his chest like a defiant child. But perhaps, he isn't asking the right question. The demon is very particular with what he reveals to the younger man, and fortunately enough, the blond is able to figure out what he should be asking.

“Fine, then what did _you_ say to him?”

“I told him to leave,” the demon confesses. But that, Steve already understands, for in that moment, the dark class had chosen a word the blond recognises from their midnight exchanges of knowledge.

“ _Ra._ Yes, I know that much. I meant after that.”

The demon is quiet, deep in thought as he contemplates the human standing so close, and even closer as he takes a step forward. Steve's folded arms brush against the demon's chest with each warm breath inhaled.

“ _Wy ez tyo._ It means _he is mine,”_ Bucky says, one lowly said word after the other and there is nothing that can stop the blush that heats under the blond's cheeks at their meaning. But, there is a coldness to the demon's eyes: an unforgiving nature. “He wanted to take you from me.”

“Why would he want to do that?” Steve questions the demon more softly, heart hammering away in his chest. Bucky can hear that rhythm as clearly as he can perceive the blond's uncertain, dizzying breaths.

“Probably to please the _Kyosw,”_ the dark class reluctantly admits.

“Is that... That's a death class demon?” The cadet frowns, recalling Bucky telling him as such.

“Yes... One in particular.”

“The one that gave you those scars?” Even though its said as a question, the younger man is sure that the demon couldn't possibly be referring to any other being. The lonely, painful expression in the silver of Bucky's eyes tell him he is right nonetheless.

“Yes, my little warrior, the one who gave me these scars that after all this time still won't disappear,” the dark class answers bitterly, like he can't quite get rid of a foul taste on the tip of his tongue.

“That death class... he's still alive? Is he-” The blond doesn't get to finish, but the dark class already knew what he was going to ask with those worried, blue eyes.

“He remains in my realm.”

The cadet feels relief at that, unsure what they would do if such a creature wandered across their terrain- destroying every form of life it passes.

“What exactly happened? Why would that light class want to please him?”

“That's enough questions,” the demon warns before the younger man can splutter more things Bucky ~~would rather not~~ can't answer.

“You fear him?” The younger man accuses. Far from maliciously, and said with confusion more than anything else. But those set of words tear at something hidden in the depths of the demon's darkened core.

Abruptly turning on the blond, the demon's right hand presses flat against the cadet's chest, roughly pushing him until his back hits the door with a dull thud. Just as an ache trails sharply between the smaller man's shoulder blades, Bucky's metallic hand slams as a fist into the door inches above those blond locks; denting its surface and leaving flakes of dried blood within the mould. The demon's wings block out even the tiniest rays of sun light that dare to grace pale features as silver eyes glow through the darkness.

Steve's eyes widen, heart beating uncontrollably as he stares back at the demon who wears an expression very much like the one when he had killed the light class: full of anger, frustration and... Its an expression of being haunted by the past.

“I do not _fear_ that demon, or any other demon,” Bucky growls. His silver eyes shine just like how a wild animal's may do so from the perilous darkness.

“I- I'm sorry...” The blond stutters ever so softly, shaking just a little as he repeats himself, even more quietly. “I'm sorry.”

Bucky leans forward, only for the cadet to _flinch._

“Are you afraid of me?” The demon says darkly, void of any emotion.

Steve can smell the blood like iron mixed with decaying flowers in his nostrils, can hear the shuffle of the demon's powerful wings; as if it would only take one rash movement to send the cadet into the earth. The smaller man can feel Bucky's aura penetrating into his own, dulling the amber swirls as their bond thrums almost painfully between them. Bucky's hand upon his chest is a firm, overbearing pressure that makes his lungs feel as if they are about to burst, even if the hand isn't pressing very hard at all.

But as Steve meets the demon's gaze, his blue orbs are filled with nothing but a stubbornness, and his heart beats with nothing but passion. Slowly, as if dealing with a timid wild animal, the cadet's delicate fingers move from his side to the demon's chest, where they continue until Bucky's face is cupped between soft palms.

“I'm not afraid of you, Bucky,” Steve whispers, glancing at the demon's lips as he uses his hands to gently encourage the creature of darkness ever so closer. As soon as their lips meet, the demon's body instantly relaxes, wrapping his right arm around the blond's slim waist to pull him from coldness of the door.

That night, it takes them almost an hour to erase the dried blood from the metallic plates of Bucky's arm.

        

“This will only take a moment,” Maria reassures the cadet. “Its just a lot more of a thorough analysis using this technique, rather than relying on the computers.”

Steve stares up at the demon upon the thin, square box that protrudes from the laboratory floor; its edges illuminating red as that purple, hollow outline appears on the main screen. The room is cool, even when compared to the icy air outside, but it is something else entirely that makes the blond shiver. Trying to re-evaluate Bucky's level (when Steve knows he is so powerful) sets him on edge.

Fury isn't an idiot, far from it. He must realise that Bucky is of a higher level than that light class- for how else would he have been able to kill the demon with relative ease? Which only leads to the conclusion, that Bucky's level far exceeds fifty-five. Of course, Steve knows this... but the academy does not.

It is impossible for Bucky to have developed more than twenty levels in the not-quite two years they have been bonded, for this is the average amount of levels gained in that time for bonded demons. However, because Bucky was originally estimated at a much higher level than the other bonded demons (theoretically) it is unlikely the demon would rise above sixty-five; which is the average level of second and third year bonded demons.

But no matter how much it may say Bucky's level has risen -and Steve is sure that it will say it has considerably if this technique grasps the true extent of his power- it only means that his level was calculated wrong in the first place. This will in turn raise questions with the technology used, and ultimately... with the demon himself.

Although, if Bucky manages to once again hide the extent of his power, this would just make him more of a target for the academy. For what low level demon compared with the light class would be able to take its life? That's not possible either.

_If Bucky's level is found to be around eighty, would we be able to pass it off as because of our one-hundred percent compatibility? Higher compatibility allows for levels to be more easily gained... But, in their case...Is Fury foolish enough to believe that?_

“I'd like to obtain a fresh blood sample too after this,” Maria interrupts the cadet's thoughts.

The blond just nods his head, watching the demon who looks back at him as if the dark class would rather be doing anything else but be stuck being analysed in a lab. The image on the screen flickers with numbers that Steve ignores, but which Maria takes great interest in.

“How about you do it, Steve. You've taken blood before, right?” She says, catching the cadet by surprise. “It wouldn't really be appropriate for me to touch a bonded demon.”

“Ah, uh, yes,” Steve fumbles, unable to express his distaste about taking blood from his demon.

“Just a little amount will do,” the doctor informs him as she hands Steve the long, dark tipped needle that leads into a sleek vial. Steve takes it hesitantly, motioning for Bucky to step off of the stage. Without any complaints, the demon does so, and Maria observes their interaction from the computer.

The dark class approaches him without a word, baring his neck and leaning just a few degrees forward to allow the blond better access to the pulsing blood vessel in his throat. Steve's dusty boots align in front of the demon's, almost as if he were to pounce up onto his toes to kiss the dark class. But instead, he forces and embeds the needle tip into Bucky's flesh until that familiar, calming blue liquid spills into the vial.

“He's rather intelligent, isn't he?” Maria declares,

“Hm?” The blond withdraws the needle, casting his gaze up to meet his demon's mischievous eyes. Without so much as a drop of blood staining the surface, the tiny wound closes instantly.

“Your demon seems to know what you want him to do. It makes me wonder how much he actually understands.” So deep in her own thoughts, she doesn't notice how the cadet flinches at her words. “Or perhaps your compatibility means you're just very much in tune.”

Steve doesn't say anything in reply as he walks over to the daydreaming doctor, the soles of his shoes making little thuds on the floor with each step. As he hands the vial to her, Maria seemingly jolts back to life, a smile on her face as she thanks the cadet before twirling around to face the wall.

One finger pressing against the cold surface, a blue scanner beeps to cause a small section of the wall to peel away, revealing a Demon Essence Extractor entrenched into it. She places the vial into the compartment before the make-shift door squeaks shut.

“Do you know why we're analysing your demon's level again?” She asks cautiously, watching the cadet over her shoulder through long lashes.

“Because he killed the light class demon.”

Bucky can hear rather than see the flashes of bright light bouncing off of the vial; heating his blood. That luscious blue colour with hints of yellow slowly turn into a black mist, just like how a storm may wreck the beauty of golden granules bordering the vibrant, salty water of a beach.

“Yes, a demon who was level eighty, and yet he killed it within minutes.”

 _Seconds,_ Steve thinks to himself, not daring to correct her.

“Your demon shows no scars from the fight. Though the reports say his wings had been burnt, and yet here we are, without so much as a feather out of place,” Maria states, barely containing her excitement. It shows in the pitch of her voice and her body that doesn't quite stop fidgeting.

The blond doesn't respond to her, but luckily enough, the doctor quickly becomes distracted once more by the Demon Essence Extractor. She takes the vial and closes off the machine before making her way back to the desk. Slipping the container into a glass holder on the desk, the screen displays numbers and connected lines that Steve cannot decipher the meaning of.

“Just give me a moment to go over all the data I've gathered,” Maria hums, taking the electronic tablet settled on the desk in hand to allow the pads of her fingers to tap away at the smaller screen.

“May I ask you something?” The cadet questions hesitantly, unsure if the doctor will even be allowed to answer him. But its something that is bugging him- eating away at his insides like a tiny centipede nipping at its prey.

“Of course, Steve.”

“How did the demon get out?” As soon as those words leave his lips, Maria stills. Slowly looking up to meet that curious gaze, she visibly swallows before answering softly, though rather sternly.

“Truthfully? We don't know, but don't tell Fury I told you that.”

“I wont,” Steve promises.

Maria turns back to the data with a slight, almost pitiful smile. Taking her time, the blond bounces on the balls of his feet patiently waiting- both eager and dreading the doctor's thoughts on Bucky's level.

The cadet knows that his demon has be at least level eighty, that much was obvious even before the fight with the light class. The way Bucky described himself and his power... about how much chaos and destruction he could create... There is no doubt in Steve's mind that he has bonded with an incredibly powerful demon. But with so many (practically invasive) tests being performed on the dark class to truly, and accurately determine his level, Steve doesn't believe that the demon could possibly hide the extent of his power from such science.

Regardless of that, this far into the programme, there isn't much point in hiding it anymore.

Perhaps it is time for the darkness to stretch its concealed shadows into a realm of light.

A few noises of interest and deep thought emit from the slender woman as her eyebrows draw together. Certain that the blond and his demon are void of her attention, Steve can't help but meet Bucky's gaze. The demon's posture is less tense than it had been the night before, and his eyes have returned to their (not quite so natural) blue, silver-flecked hue.

Steve hasn't questioned the dark class again about what had occurred barely twenty-four hours ago. The cadet can only hope that the demon will divulge secretive details when he is ready to do so; though the blond isn't sure how long he can keep his curiosity at bay. But, the younger man does know something: Bucky's past is something _painful._

The blond wishes to soothe away the ache that resides in the demon's core like an embedded knife in his chest. But for wounds to heal properly, they must first be opened up and the dirt and grime within must be eradicated so that they do not fester. However, Steve needs to be gentle when opening up Bucky's wounds- they are old and yet they haunt him in every moment like a persistent curse. Except when the demon glimpses at smiling pink lips and gorgeous golden strands framing two pools of shimmering blue irises. Then, and only then does the pain fade and become replaced with a warmth the demon never wants to let go of.

One day, those wounds will be ripped open and stitched back together. And one day, those wounds will be faint scars even the demon can no longer see.

“Oh my God,” Maria mutters under her breath. Just a fraction above a whisper, and yet the bonded pair hear it anyway.

When she finally turns from the desk, her uncertain stare reluctantly falls upon the dark class before flickering back to the anxious cadet. Maria's lips part, only to shut again as if at a loss for words. Or perhaps, she is trying to find the right ones.

Nonetheless, that makes the apprehensive swirl in the blond's stomach flutter more violently.

“From what I can tell, he is... His data shows that he's rather powerful. In fact, extremely so. I've never analysed a demon at such a high level before, and I don't know how we missed it in the first place.” Her tone is laced with something akin to doubt, and if Steve were to delve into it further, he would find that it is really just a mixture of her wonder and _fear._ “There may have been a glitch in our system, but this... This is definitely an accurate report of his level.”

“How high is it?” The blond almost doesn't want to know. But with the dark class standing right beside him, his eagerness to know every part of him overwhelms the thoughts about any consequences.

“Ninety-four. And honestly, Steve, he's the highest level demon I've ever seen. More powerful than any other demon in our military. Or anyone else's for that matter.”

The doctor's words are so quick that the blond struggles to understand their meaning. Even if she had spoken more slowly, his mind would have still be caught up on the number _ninety-four._

Bucky is... one of the most powerful demons the cadet has read about. More powerful than demons who have destroyed entire cities and crushed thousands of human lives. His level is beyond what Steve expected, and that only makes him wonder if even Bucky realises just how much chaos he is capable of. Demons above level ninety are rare. Demons more than level seventy-five are living nightmares for soldiers and civilians alike. Level eighty demons are feared by even the most stern and experienced military commanders. And yet, there Bucky stands silently, at level ninety-four without any intentions but wanting to hold the cadet in his arms crossing his mind.

“What happens now?” The cadet asks, unsure with how his heart breaks and shatters at the thought of scientists wanting to take Bucky away from him.

But they would, wouldn't they? Want to take away and take apart something so powerful so that they may find a flaw and exploit it. Degrade creatures until they become nothing but simple lab rats subjected to brute tests that may just so happen to advance science.

“Nothing.”

“What?” Steve couldn't have possibly stopped the bluntness of his question, shock coursing through him to disregard military politeness.

“You can both leave now,” Doctor Hill informs the young soldier with a smile that fails to meet her eyes.

 _Thats it?_ The cadet thinks to himself, though he is swift to take the opportunity to lead his demon out of the labs. Maria watches them go, and with one last glance over his shoulder, she disappears from view as the bonded pair make their way down the corridor.

“You're unbelievable,” Steve sighs fondly to the demon.

“Perhaps,” the demon chuckles, voice low as to not be overheard.

“We're going to get in so much trouble one day,” the blond shakes his head, unable to erase his own grin that the demon's lips reflect. Bucky's metallic fingers interlace with the smaller man's as silver-flecked eyes peer down in search of a pair of blue ones.

“Then let's hope that time comes far in the future.”


	32. Your Shadows Do Not Ever Feel Regret, Nor Do They Have Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Thirty-one:  
> **After killing the Light Class demon, Bucky and Steve went to Fury's office, where they passed a huge gateway being constructed.  
> **Bucky confessed that the demon may be linked to the dark class that gave Bucky his scars.  
> **Maria re-evaluated Bucky's level, discovering it to be 94.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays to all! This story would not be here if it wasn't for your continued support. Kudos, comments, bookmarks... I'm truly grateful for all of that. :)
> 
> I hope you all get a nice break this winter (or summer, depending on where you live), but if you're like me and have exams in the new year, let's study hard and do well (but also take time to enjoy ourselves a little too)! I also hope that you all enjoy reading this chapter.
> 
> Thanks again!

“ _Steve,”_ a deep, oh-so-familiar voice whispers from the darkness.

“Mmm?” The blond hums into the demon's chest. The itchy covers are drawn up to his shoulders, keeping in the warmth that radiates in waves from the dark class. Bucky's metallic arm is slung around his slim waist, fingers having sneaked under the cadet's top during the night to rub soothingly along his spine.

“Your alarm is going off.”

Only then does the faint _beep beep beep_ seem to get louder, as if seeking to jolt the cadet out of his peaceful dreams. But Steve is so comfortably aligned with Bucky's muscular, heated body, that his own finds it difficult to even imagine leaving the sweet embrace.

“Turn it off for me then,” Steve murmurs, shifting only to bury his nose into the dip between the demon's throat and collarbone. Bucky chuckles at that, and the cadet can feel the vibration of his gentle laughter tickling along his arms that are tucked between their forms.

Bucky's touch retreats from the bare skin of his back, stretching just that little bit forward to take the watch between his fingers, only to replace it onto the edge of the desk as soon as silence resumes. The blond sighs softly, mind still numb as his thoughts become hazy once more. That is, until the demon's voice disrupts his body's attempt at falling asleep.

“Don't you have an important meeting with your team today?”

“It's just to test our abilities against _Hydra.”_

They're a couple months into their third year at the academy, and Fury wants to analyse their strengths and weaknesses; their battle tactics and how they function as a team against an enemy that should be more or less equal to themselves. Though in all honesty, Steve isn't entirely convinced that it'll be a fair fight. Using their manifested weapons on an open plain the size of a football pitch is one thing, but _Hydra_ fail to act as a single unit: they've taken losses to their team, and now they lack leadership.

Fortunately for the _Avengers,_ they have someone they will listen to, be guided by and ultimately someone they _trust._ Steve has proven himself worthy on the battle field before, when they faced the high level water class demon. Although they haven't explicitly assigned the cadet as their leader, the team structure has gravitated to accompany him as if he were. Steve is quiet and keeps to himself, but when the time comes for him to put his skills into action -just like that time in the arena- his qualities shine and his team mates see it as clear as the sun on a cloudless day. His natural ability to stay focused with coherent ideas makes him a vital team member, and the mutual trust and respect for his friends establishes them as one of the best teams at the academy.

“By fighting them, I believe therefore your presence may be required,” the demon counters affectionately, pressing a single kiss to the blond's forehead.

“What's the point? They don't stand a chance against us.” By that,the blond undoubtedly means the dark class- though neither of them bother to clarify it. They are a team. Together. A deadly force like no other and a bond that could change the world. “Besides, don't you usually try and get me to stay in bed with you?”

“I wasn't saying we should leave.” Bucky grins, seeking out smiling pink lips to give them a tender kiss as well.

“Sounds like you're doing reverse psychology on me,” Steve jests, only for his words to puzzle the demon.

“Reverse what?”

“Never mind, I'll explain it another time. We had better get ready.” Slipping from the demon's embrace to sit at the edge of the bed, the blond yawns lightly and stretches his arms above himself in an effort to wake his cells properly.

The demon watches Steve's every movement, twisting onto his own back to reluctantly allow the blond to leave the firm mattress and get dressed. Each reveal of silky, pale skin has Bucky's eyes darkening in want- and disappointment when it eventually becomes wrapped in the cadet's uniform. The demon is even more discontented when Steve's form disappears into the bathroom, and Bucky takes the cue as needing to change into his own uniform.

When the cadet emerges, eyes bright and cheeks cool from the never-warm water, the demon is waiting at the door for his return. Being moved up onto the third year floor, Steve hopes that whichever second year got his previous room doesn't bother to ask why their door has a strange fist-sized dent. Still, there seems to always be strangely scratched up metallic furniture in their rooms, so a dent isn't really that much more extreme. Though perhaps that is just Steve trying to reason with his anxieties.

“Come on, let's go,” the smaller man gestures for the demon to open the door to the hallway, but Bucky doesn't move an inch.

With a raised brow, Steve detects the underlying smirk in the demon's features. Stepping that little bit closer and bouncing up onto his tiptoes, the blond wraps his arms around muscular shoulders as their mouths meet in a lazy kiss. The synchrony of their lips only last a few seconds, but as Steve pulls back, the demon seems satisfied regardless.

“You know...” The blond begins softly, fingers linking at the back of the demon's neck as Bucky's hands plant themselves at his hips.

“Hm?” Bucky looks down at those blue eyes that glimmer with such intensity, it is almost as if the demon is looking at thousands of twinkling stars.

“I can't imagine what my life would be like without you.”

“Pretty boring, I suppose,” the demon replies, mischief clouding his eyes.

“Bucky!” Steve hits the demon's chest in mock offence, tone scandalous as he says the demon's name before bursting into laughter. “I'm being sincere.”

“I know,” the dark class chuckles, taking hold of the blond's wrists. His fingers easily wrapping around the thin bones as he keeps the cadet in place. Suddenly, the demon's expression of joy fades into something rigid. “Thing is, I can imagine my life without you.”

The blond instantly feels his smile disintegrate, his body unable to move as the demon's silver-flecked gaze digs under his skin. But after just a moment, the dark class continues, torturously slow.

“My life would be nothing but darkness, surrounded by death and destruction and chaos. And each day I would have to keep moving aimlessly without a home. There would be no one I could trust and confide in, no one I wished to talk to. No one for me to protect. There would be no meaning in my existence, and there would be no reason for me to even try and live.” The demon pauses, metallic fingers leaving the cadet's wrist to press under his chin, tilting his head up just enough so that their gazes are locked. “That's why I want to always be with you, and that is why I don't _want_ to be able to imagine my life without you, even though I _can._ Because until I met you, my life was always like that.”

As soon the younger man comprehends the demon's words, his head falls to rest upon the demon's chest with a deep sigh.

“Oh my G- don't make me worry like that,” Steve scolds without any force behind his words. The demon smiles, his adoration for the younger man obvious if only the blond were to look up and see it. But instead, Steve can _feel_ it through the pulsations of their bond as he mutters into the demon's chest. “You're a real romantic when you want to be, in your own way.”

“I don't know what that is.”

“Its...Ah, come on. We really do have to go.” Escaping from the demon's arms, the cadet nudges him out of the way, opening the door to reveal a brightly lit corridor. Quiet and empty of cadets who have one by one gone to collect their demons from the adjoining dorms.

Regardless of the blond being the last to leave his room, he and Bucky are the first to meet Fury and his demon on a large field covered in light brown dirt and cloudy dust particles. The blond stands at the edge of the plain expanse in front of Fury, as Bucky settles in his place just behind the smaller man. The old soldier says nothing to them until the rest of the third years arrive. They line up against the boarder, dusty tarmac under their boots that might as well just be made of mud and dirt as well.

Steve can't help but feel as if it's a little early in their training to be doing this sort of exercise, and he isn't quite sure if he prefers this to their morning jogging session. However, he is also very aware of the fact that demons are becoming more of a menace in cities, and new soldiers are needed more than ever to join the war. A few months ago, four earth class demons destroyed close to a dozen high-rise buildings in Phoenix, Arizona. And even now, the government is still trying to fix the damage. Though what they can't do, is resurrect the hundreds of lives that were taken in the space of the two hours that the demons had wreaked havoc.

Fury instructs the two teams to brace themselves on opposing sides of the field, while a few fifth years hand them thick black vests and helmets to prevent any of them getting seriously injured. Steve hates how restricting the clothing feels against his chest, but most of all the blurriness of the strip of specialised glass across his face. Technically, the blond doesn't need the protective material, for his shield is enough to provide incredible defence. But, rules are rules: and the cadet is certainly one to believe in following them before attempting to go against them. Steve supposes that if he were to throw the shield, that would leave him vulnerable. Then again, that vulnerability wouldn't last more than a few seconds. The blond shakes his head, _it doesn't matter._ Fury is terribly frightening when shouting at them- like a lion berating its cubs.

With one last glance at Bucky who remains on the sidelines, Steve finds himself taking a deep breath. Centering his thoughts into a single aim: keep up defence, take advantage of any openings and don't turn your back on _Hydra._ Any lasting anxieties are pushed away to the furthest parts of his mind, disregarding them as adrenaline filters through his body. The focus of survival without there really being any danger feels foreign to him- as if his senses are searching the environment for threats, only to then yearn to be back within his demon's arms.

Quickly ducking to the side as something purple swings into his peripheral vision, the blond immediately manifests his shield, holding it up to dull the next blow. The distinct _clang_ has the cadet grimacing, but just a few more seconds, and Steve has _Hydra_ analysed. Since arriving at the academy, members of _Hydra_ had been dwindling through the two complete years of their course- leaving them with only three individuals. As far as Fury is concerned, that is not enough to make an effective team.

It was a rather unorthodox and bold decision that followed which the old soldier made. However, it was one that had to be done. Fury requested, and granted permission to transfer four bonded cadets and their demons (from other military academies across the globe) to join _Hydra,_ thus evening out the number of third years.

They're good, or at least Steve thinks so: hard working and focused on graduating as true soldiers, just like the rest of them. But at least in this moment, they are the _'enemy'._ By taking into account whether they have short or long range weapons, and then considering the abilities of his own team, he makes the first command as his mind comprehends a reasonable course of action.

“Everyone needs to spread out. Clint, Bruce, stick with me.”

The rules of the game are easy. You get hit, you get out.

Steve has a plan. Perhaps not the best one, but nonetheless, it is a plan. It could go wrong, or it could be executed perfectly. Fortunately, right here, right now mistakes don't matter as much. You may end up having a trip to the academy's onsite clinic, but at least it wouldn't be a drive to the morgue.

“What's the plan then, cap?” Clint jests with a smirk, and the blond can't quite stop himself from grinning back.

Most of _Hydra_ have close-combat weapons; however, Steve detects Jim at the very back of his team with an emerald green crossbow. Sam is agile enough to keep moving while maintaining accuracy with his shurikens, but that is not the case with Clint's combined bow and arrow.

Clint's weapon works differently than most of the others: after manifesting the bow and drawing the red string into position, only then is he able to manifest the arrow that slots neatly in place. The arrow becomes a part of the bow, and when releasing the pressure of the string, it's as if the weapon itself breaks as the arrow follows its decided path. The twelve or so seconds it takes Clint to pull the bow and to manifest another arrow, makes him an all-too-easy target if someone decides to take a run at him.

However, Clint is also the only one with enough long-distance accuracy to be able to target Jim from where they currently stand. But to take the shot, only to be targeted by another member of _Hydra_ while vulnerable, or even to prepare the shot only for Jim to get him first isn't worth the effort. That's why, they need to work as a team.

“If we can get a little closer, I'm going to give you an opening so you can take him out,” Steve tilts his head towards Jim's direction, only then to turn to Bruce. “I need you to keep anyone with close combat weapons away from us when we take the shots. Basically, give us a clear line.”

“I'll do what I can,” Bruce confirms with a slight nod as he manifests a white orb. The sphere fits easily into the palm of his hand like a grenade, its surface smooth and shiny like a pearl. Its appearance almost makes it seem as if it would be cold to touch, but Bruce holds it with a certain finesse that only adds to his proficiency in using the weapon.

Dancing around his teammates, Bruce hauls the orb in the direction of the two closest _Hydra_ cadets. The spherical weapon bounces lowly twice before pausing between the two of them as a thin layer of dust flourishes around it. Then, before the cadets can realise what's going on, the weapon cracks open in little branches like how the shell of an egg breaks; only to collapse in on itself like a star, simultaneously sending out a burst of forceful air that knocks the two cadets off of their feet and into the dry earth.

Using the clear pathway, the two _Avengers_ proceed to draw nearer to Jim, and the blond faintly gestures for Bruce to go to the other end of the pitch to assist Sam. Gripping the edge of the dark shield, Steve angles it towards his shoulder, muscles twisting and tightening with the movement. Taking just a moment to visualise where he wants the weapon to strike, Steve takes in a final deep breath that overfills his lungs.

In an instant, the blond forces the weapon loose into the air, that sharp sound penetrating into his ear drums as it whirls towards the other cadet across the pitch. A curved section of the front of the shield collides into Jim, disrupting his even footing and ultimately his manifesting abilities. The sleek crossbow vanishes in a thick layer of green mist as the cadet stumbles a few paces to the side.

The shield dissipates in a cloud of darkness, and Steve surprises himself as he manifests it once more into his grip in a mere few seconds. Clint immediately takes the opportunity to ready his aim, and before Steve can truly register his teammate's actions, the vibrant red arrow pierces through the steady wind around them to become embedded into the solid material protecting Jim's chest.

Clint smirks, turning to the blond with a smug look painted across his face as he raises his right arm, palm out to the smaller man. Smiling back up at his friend, he uses his free hand to slap against the other cadet's in a childish high-five. Even though they both know that it isn't over yet.

Jim pulls out the arrow with a frustrated grunt, only for it to disperse into the air as well; the tear in the fabric reveals a silver metal plate that had acted like a barrier to the sharp point of the weapon. Scurrying off of the field towards his demon, Jim is careful not to get in the way of any close-combats fights, or Wanda's thin, porcelain-white whip as she targets one of his teammates. Clint leaves the smaller man's side to provide back up for Tony as two _Hydra_ cadets convene against him, and Steve is just about to follow his lead when something begs his attention.

Something that is out of place.

Like a blue flower amongst a meadow of red petals, or a willow tree surrounded by pines. A moon displayed in the bright sky next to the sun, or a wolf slipping inbetween a herd of sheep. A diamond wedged into the grey wall of a cave, or a red brick without cement connecting it to another.

The oddity and strangeness attracts one's otherwise unknowing gaze and beckons the mind to briefly wonder _why?_

_Why is Clint's fiery red-haired demon standing so close to Bucky?_

Less than an arm's length away, head low and cocked slightly towards the dark class as if to... Steve can see her lips moving- he's sure of it. Even from the other side of the field the cadet can depict the unmistakable hushed action.

The demon must be whispering rather softly, for neither Fury or Jim seem irked, nor do they hint at any signs of bewilderment. Instead, they are fixated on the cadets in the midst of undiciplined battle.

Bucky's arms are folded across his chest, a neutral expression plastered on his face as he looks at the dusty ground infront of him. Whatever foreign words the fire class is emitting between plump, red lips... the dark class is _listening_ to them.

That very thought stirs and presses against the uncertain emotion swelling in Steve's chest. The blond could always play it off as apprehension for the fire class, or even curiosity, but in fact, he knows exactly what it is that blossoms in the deepest part of his core.

~~Jealousy.~~

The dark class doesn't appear agitated, if anything, he seems disinterested. That is, until the blond perceives the demon's posture marginally shifting, head down like a dog about to bear its teeth as he speaks. At least the blond assumes so, for the fire class stills like a deer listening to the sounds of a predator getting nearer. But not even a moment later, Bucky's gaze lifts up to meet the younger man's critical stare. Steve feels himself blush as he averts his eyes, only to look back to find Bucky still watching him with Clint's demon back where her cadet had left her- neither acknowledging the other's presence. The dark class is far from embarrassed at having been caught talking to another demon, and yet he remains expressionless to the point that it makes the blond feel uncomfortable.

It makes Steve believe that his demon is hiding his own emotions behind a façade of darkness; a wall that even the brightest ray of light cannot break through.

A sharp crack in the air brings the blond back to the reality of the battle as Wanda tags out another member of _Hydra._ All Steve can do, is brace himself and command his teammates so that they can ride out the rest of Fury's so-called _game._ The blond becomes so entangled in the ongoing fight, that fifteen minutes draws nearer and arrives when Steve feels like only a few minutes could have surely passed. The whole of _Hydra_ had been taken out one by one until there had been no one left, while only Tony and Rhodey had been tagged out themselves from the _Avengers._ Although technically a good win, all Steve can think about is that, if it had been a real war, his team would have taken two causalities. That's not something they can afford to let happen.

Breathing heavily, they return to their demons, weapons disappearing as Fury nonchalantly taps away at the screen of his electronic tablet. No doubt jotting down his analysis of the two teams, and the cadets themselves as individuals. Bucky watches his bonded human approach, and as Steve gets closer, he can see that unmistakable hint of vexation in his eyes. One would only know of its existence if used to the demon's company, for Bucky's exterior remains the mask of calmness and impassiveness.

“Keep the gear, you're all relieved of your afternoon schedule,” the old soldier says without so much as looking up from the device in his hands. His demon stands still like a gargoyle statue beside him, head down and arms behind his back as if he's not some creature of fire that could burn the humans into black- like overcooked meat.

With the cadets only having a few bruises and cuts and only one case of a dislocated shoulder, they feel fairly satisfied with their progress. Slipping off their helmets, the cool breeze feels soothing against their heated faces. As soon as Fury gives the nod of dismissal, the cadets turn on their heels to head back to the dorms- their demons following them like obedient dogs. Even as they walk, Bucky's posture is that little-too-stiff and Steve knows that the demon is agitated. But, instead of questioning the dark class in the confines of his room, the blond silently changes out of his uniform.

After a rather cold shower, the cadet finally shuffles into blue jeans and a faded white t-shirt, taking time to zip up his academy jumper and retie his dusty boots. Steve thinks he'll need a new pair soon, for their edges are scuffed and the fabric covered in a layer of dirt from all over the academy and further. But, he's determined to make them last as long as he possibly can.

Bucky sits on the very edge of the bed, holding Steve's watch in one hand until the blond holds out his own to take the gadget from him. Before the younger man can ask the demon if he wants to come along to the canteen with him, Bucky abruptly stands.

Steve's reaction is to automatically pull away from the sudden touch, but that sensation is overridden by how his body melts with the demon's warmth caressing his skin. Like an addict getting their fix. Bucky's arms are strong and secure around him, keeping him close as he rests his cheek atop the soft locks of Steve's hair. The blond's natural scent is mixed with the plain scent of his shampoo, and yet the demon is unperturbed as his brain picks up on all the little, intoxicating particles that emit from the smaller man. Listening to the gentle _thumps_ of Steve's heartbeat, Bucky says nothing as the quiet persists.

The blond wraps his own arms around Bucky's chest, pressing his form into the demon's like two puzzle pieces slotting together as he rests his ear upon that muscular chest. If the human tries hard enough, he can hear Bucky's heart _thud_ every so often. Their bond vibrates appreciatively between them as their auras collide to become one. And then, with steady breaths, the demon speaks.

“I know you saw her talking to me.”

“I... Yeah, I did,” Steve admits, for there's no point in trying to lie to the demon. Bucky knows the tell-tale signs of his body when he lies to others, but apart from that, the blond doesn't wish to lie to the fiend. Although in return the cadet is often not honest with himself. “She spoke to you in your language?”

“Yes, my little warrior.”

Steve moves his hands from the demon's back to his pectorals, not to push Bucky away, but to look up at the dark class hopefully. Those two, entrancing blue jewels are surely the demon's weakness as they beg him silently, and yet so eagerly for answers. Bucky's gentle, affectionate gaze gives the human the incentive to ask questions.

“Doesn't she... fear you?”

The fire class had approached Bucky as if she no longer cared about the fact that he could rip her into fragments. Apart from the light class demon, Steve has never seen another fiend approach Bucky before. On the contrary, the cadet has seen demons showing their _fear_ of the dark class, jolting with that terror and some going as far as to even recoil from Bucky's mere presence.

“Natalia.”

“Hm?” Steve's head tilts in confusion.

“That's her name,” the demon nonchalantly informs the younger man. Before the cadet can query how or why Bucky knows her name -as well as the many other questions that ultimately come with that enquiry- the dark class dismisses him by continuing. “But, yes, she _does_ fear me.”

“But, she spoke to you?” The cadet struggles to see the logic in the demon's words. But, then again, he knows very little about how demons interact with one another... Except from when ferociously tearing each-other apart like rabid animals. The Demon War has taught humanity that much. Though now, their interactions are becoming far more complex: demons being seen working together only adds mayhem to the small amount of information humans have previously gathered.

Demons. They're territorial, single minded and at their very core, nothing but monsters. That's exactly what humanity sees in such beings, regardless if humans are exactly the same.

“It's taken her more than half of your years for her to get the courage to do so,” the demons replies sternly, as if trying to put it into a perspective the blond can understand. “She wanted to speak to me about the light class demon.”

“The one you killed.” It's not a question, but an effort at some confirmation to ensure that they're on the same page. Steve assumes that Bucky has only killed one light class demon in his life, but then again, he doesn't truly know enough about his demon's past to make a definite judgement.

“She thinks it was a mistake to do so. She said to me: feah-fe oxae-leay-see deah-fe-raeays,” Bucky says the demonic terms slowly, subconsciously breaking them up for Steve to get a better understanding of them.

“What does that mean?” Steve's brows furrow at the unfamiliar words- there's still so much about the Forbidden Language the blond is yet to learn. But, he is determined, ardent and _stubborn._ Like a desert plant thriving in a heat it shouldn't be able to handle, his desire to be integrated into a world that is hostile towards him overrides any thoughts of giving up. Because, in that world, resides a being who he craves. All they can do, is try to blur the wall between their worlds, so that they can get the chance of permanent shelter in the other's arms.

“ _Faf oxyles dafreiz._ You've gone too far.” There's no regret in the demon's eyes at his confession, and Steve's doubts that the demon will ever feel the sensation of guilt worm its way into his body. Bucky is oddly... _detached_ from everything around him. His hatred for his own kind is something that even now still shocks the blond; especially as Steve has seen what can happen when a demon dares to oppose the dark class.

“By killing that demon? Why? He was a threat.” The cadet firmly believes that the light class would have killed Bucky, given half the chance. He certainly would have killed the blond cadet, as well as every other human at the academy if Bucky hadn't stopped him from heading down that route. Although Steve would not encourage such actions again -for surely they should have tried to capture the light class instead- he understands that sometimes Bucky's instincts need to overrule his own human morals.

The dark class has been playing the game of survival far longer than the cadet.

“Mm, she also questioned me on my intentions towards you.” Bucky smirks, taking the cadet by surprise.

“And what did you say to that?” The blond nervously asks, biting his lower lip and smiling shyly at the demon who watches him with as much intensity as those devilish eyes can muster.

Bucky's grip around his waist tightens, forcing their chests flush together with a light bump as Steve's hands shift to entwine around the demon's shoulders. The blond can feel the warmth of Bucky's breath ghosting his face like the first rays of sun in the morning. However, he can also feel how the demon's hands slide firmly down the length of his back, over the soft flesh of his ass to the tops of his thighs. Steve gasps as Bucky uses the new position to pull the cadet up against him until the blond is coerced onto the tips of his toes, bringing those silky lips closer so that the demon can kiss them.

The younger man slackens in Bucky's hold, practically melting into the heat and forcing the dark class to bear his weight. Pressing his mouth to the demon's and parting his lips to allow Bucky's tongue to swipe along his own, nothing could have possibly prevented the blissful moan that echoes in the blond's throat. The kiss is wet and messy, but also full of passion and a desire that they share. Steve could lose himself in this, he thinks. Though that thought ends as soon as the demon breaks their kiss to tie their gazes, catching the blond's interest with eyes of lust and innocent want.

“I told Natalia that my _intentions_ do not concern her.”

“And after that?” Steve breathes, leaning to give the demon one last kiss as if it pains him to stop.

“She said that he is coming for me,” Bucky murmurs in reply, his voice quiet but otherwise unchanging as if the topic doesn't affect him. “To kill me.”

Steve swears his heart skipped a beat upon hearing those words.

He blinks once. Twice. Before finally looking the demon in the eyes with his own full of concern; lips barely gracing and only touching with the slight movement of their bodies that comes with their pulsing hearts.

“Who?”

“Kyosw.”

“The death class knows you are here?” Steve instantly begins to worry. His apprehension swelling inside of his stomach and spreading into his chest. And yet... Bucky doesn't seem bothered at all.

“He's probably known for a while.”

It's like he's withdrawn from the whole situation.

“The way you say that makes it seem as if you know since when,” Steve accuses, leaning back to stand fully on his feet, though he does not attempt to rid himself of the demon's touch around him.

“When Thor came with the other human soldiers, I am sure the _death class_ knew then.”

Steve frowns at the unfamiliar name, until he puts two and two together and realises that Bucky must be referring to the light class demon. That makes an uncomfortable itch dig underneath his skin: Bucky had known the light class well enough to know his name, and still he hadn't hesitated in killing him. Steve can't quite... that's not something Steve can grasp. At least not for now.

“But that was... so long ago. Why bother making a move now?” The blond's frustration is slowly edging into his tone, mixing in with his trepidation.

“He's been testing me.” Bucky says it as if that doesn't have a hundred different implications that leave the cadet feeling like he's isolated in a mist of the unknown- a mist that infects his surroundings with each new question coming to light.

“How?”

“By trying to get to you,” the demon simply states, though there is now a distinct hint of anger underlying his tone.

“I don't under-” Bucky cuts him off to explain.

“The water class demon, then the light class,” Bucky begins, perhaps revealing more than he should. “They both knew him, and I am sure that they were sent to find me... and then to kill you.”

“They follow, uh, followed his command? Can demons do that? I didn't think...”

“We have a hierarchy system like your own, Steve,” Bucky lectures, sincerely, though he would rather discuss anything but his own kind. “Demons will follow the commands of another if they are more powerful. But it's a matter of survival, not respect or the wish to obey.”

“I don't get it. Why try to kill me? Why even bother trying to find you? Your fight with the death class was hundreds of years ago, wasn't it? Why is he still tailing after you? For revenge? You defeated him, right? Or at least, you got away...”

The demon is awfully quiet, staring down at the cadet with a blank expression. For just a few seconds, the smaller man is convinced that Bucky hadn't heard all of his tumbled-out questions. In reality, the dark class had perceived them, but his silence is the only reply he can give.

“Bucky?” Steve softly coaxes the dark class, albeit his siren-like voice cannot always get the answers he yearns for.

Sighing, there's an air of deflation and _exhaustion_ around the demon as his shoulders sink until their foreheads press together. In that moment, Bucky looks as if he's lost tiring battle that has taken everything from him.

“I can't tell you anything else, my little warrior.”

        

Steve doesn't even realise that he is dreaming at first.

The darkness is silent and the shadows are still- as if all he has done is close his eyes in the middle of the night where the moon and stars have been blocked out by dreary clouds. But, his body feels light and yet it is being weighed down to the earth. _Chained_ is probably the more appropriate term.

There's that silvery chain again, its cuff digging into the velvety flesh of Steve's wrist, surely bruising the delicate skin. Even as the blond pulls away from the cold metal, its strength is as stubborn as before; Steve is left panting for breath from his efforts. Yet still, the cadet persists, tightly gripping the chain links and leaning his weight back. The chain clinks and the sound echoes in the darkness as if bouncing off of the walls in an extremely large room.

In his haste of trying to remove the chain, the blond has forgotten to search the shadows for a pair of scrutinising blue orbs. They watch his struggle from afar, and it's not until sweat falls as tiny drops down the cadet's forehead that he realises he's not alone. A sudden chill crawls through his veins, and the blond's impulse has him checking over his shoulder to meet the hostile stare. Darkened, blue eyes of _anger –_ a hate that Steve cannot comprehend.

The blond gasps as the chain jolts, forcing him to his knees and Steve has to quickly put his hands out in a desperate attempt to stop his fall. Minuscule grains of black sand slide over his fingertips, only halting when pale hands are completely encompassed by the warm substance. Sitting back on his haunches, the cadet drags his hands out, the particles like grit against his skin as they become lodged underneath his fingernails.

Frowning at how the thin creases of his hands seem to be warm and sticky, Steve turns his palms up to face him, only to discover them to be covered in a layer of dense, murky blood. Its old and drying, yet the blond cannot figure out in the silence around him where the blood could have possibly come from. Steve's eyes widen in fear as a puddle of the maroon liquid appears before him, streaming towards his knees like a snake flicking out its tongue.

_Bucky._

Jarring backwards to prevent the blood from reaching him, the cadet slips and loses his balance on the shifting sand. He has to hold back his screams as his legs and forearms land in more of the thick liquid, soaking his limbs as the scent of metal fills the air. Pushing himself up, the blond wobbles to stand, limited by the chain that is now covered in the very same blood. But before the cadet has any sort of chance to steady his footing and thrashing heart, the chain abruptly shortens to half its length, constraining Steve onto his hands and knees once more.

_Bucky._

A foul taste at the back of the cadet's throat has him letting out a dull cough, but when that only makes the metallic, wet taste more distinct, the blond coughs into his hands. Body shaking with the movement, after a mere few seconds Steve opens his eyes which he hadn't even known he had shut.

_Bucky._

Steve is mortified at the bright red, fresh blood that now coats his palms over the cloggy layer. The blood is warm, hot even. However, his body feels as if it is freezing in place atop a stormy mountain. Sweat streams down the vertebra of his spine as shadows tangle around his ankles. There's blood at the corner of his mouth and all at once, it feels difficult to breathe.

_Bucky._

There's tears welling up in his eyes, blurring his vision as his chest gets that much tighter. Through the transparent blur, Steve can depict those blue eyes moving around in the dark- circling him like a hyena getting closer and closer to wounded prey.

_Bucky!_

The blond craves nothing more than to be safe in his demon's arms: it's a distraught notion in his mind and it only makes him feel more isolated and alone. For soon enough, those eyes have crept closer through the shadows. Vibrant like two glaciers staring back at him, with a depth like the deepest parts of the ocean. Trying to call out to Bucky in hopes the demon will stop the nightmare, nothing but a strained, garbled note leaves his lips... Almost as if the creature amongst the shadows before him has stolen his voice.

Then, the creature growls to him in demonic tongue, spitting out the exact words it had spoken the last time Steve had found himself trapped in the nightmare: _“weayae-tez.”_

It consumes him with a fear unlike anything he has ever experienced.

Startling awake with a scream that dies in his throat, the cadet struggles to breathe with how viscously his heart pounds against his ribcage. Like a hammer threatening to break the bones. Some sort of choked, broken-off sound leaves the blond's lips as goosebumps emerge across the surface of his skin, and it takes a foggy moment of uncertainty to realise where he is. Sitting up on the firm mattress, back arched and hands clenched in front of his chest, there's still the faintest taste of blood on his tongue. Like a fading memory. Except that, Steve knows that none of it was real, regardless of how much pain and fear he thought he had felt.

It's not for a few minutes that the blond finally registers his name being called out softly.

“ _Steve.”_ The voice is comforting, pulling him from the darkness like a beacon of light in a storm of shadows- no matter how ironic that may sound. “Steve, look at me.”

When watery, blue eyes at long last meet silver-flecked ones, any lasting remains of composure slip away like droplets on a window pane. Bucky's warm palms cup his face, bringing him just that little bit closer as the demon scans the very depths of his irises to perceive the distress swirling within them.

Bucky sighs sympathetically, metallic arm looping under the cadet's legs as his other wraps around his waist, hauling the smaller man easily into his lap. Steve rests his cheek atop the demon's shoulder, sliding one arm around his neck while the other presses against Bucky's firm chest. Cradling the blond's head, his non-metallic fingers brush through those golden strands that have become the slightest bit damp with sweat. Duvet slung over their legs with the demon's back somewhat leaning against the wall behind him, Bucky says nothing as the blond sniffles quietly and shivers in the heat of the demon's embrace. Not until the skin of his shoulder is dotted wet and cooling despite the younger man's laboured, warm breaths ghosting that very same area.

“Do you want to talk to me about it?” Bucky offers, his voice a whisper in Steve's ear.

“No, I just want to forget...” The blond mutters in return as he noses at the side of the demon's throat. “They're only dreams.”

Although the cadet's words are far from convincing, the demon merely proceeds to give a delicate kiss to the blond strands of soft hair that cover his forehead before gently murmuring an _“okay, then, my little warrior.”_ Bucky can feel the smaller man relaxing, eyelids fluttering closed and heart beating a more content rhythm... even though the stench of his anxiety fills the air like a cloud of fear.


	33. Where Have Your Shadows Wandered?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ thirty-two:  
> **The Avengers battled Hydra  
> **Clint's demon and Bucky spoke  
> **Bucky revealed to Steve that the death class may be searching for Bucky, testing him trying to get to Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!!  
> What's this? An update way before I said there was going to be one? Indeed.  
> I know I did a Christmas-eve update last year, so I thought I would do an after-Christmas-day update this year... So I really hope you enjoy reading this chapter. The next one (chapter 34) will still be on New Years day. 
> 
> Hope you all have a great week! Thank you for reading. :)

“Demons have incredibly effective immune systems.” Erskine paces the front of the lecture theatre as he talks, using his index finger to push his glasses more securely onto the bridge of his nose. “The healing capabilities of their bodies are far superior to that of humans, and the mechanisms within allow them to defend themselves against pathogens, like bacteria and viruses, and they are even capable of demolishing cancerous cells.

“So far, we have not been able to document any cases of demons suffering from diseases seen in humans, nor are there reports of diseases isolated to only demons. This leads us to question whether there are any diseases in the Netherworld, or if demons have evolved and become resistant to the diseases in their realm.

“Parasites like ticks and fleas, and also internal parasites seem to be disinterested in demon hosts. Though there are numerous reasons as to why this may be. Their internal body temperatures average at about 45 degrees Celsius, with fire class demons having the highest and wind classes usually the lowest body temperatures.”

Steve's fingers glides across the buttons of his sleek keyboard with an ease that comes with natural habits. Demon diseases (or more accurately, the lack of them) is not something that was covered in their pre-military demon course, so the cadet more than welcomes the new information with a joyous curiosity.

The cadets hang onto every one of Erskine's words, situated on the very front rows of the auditorium while their demons stand obediently at the very back of the room. The afternoon is young, and yet the only light shining upon the screens of their laptops are the white beams from the numerous light strips above them. The heat of summer is slowly turning into the cool breeze of autumn, and although the cadets feel more confident in their teams and abilities, there is still so much for them to learn- and certainly much for them to yet excel in. To survive the ongoing battle with demons, they must become the very best soldiers they can be: otherwise, they will undoubtedly die at the hands of a demon.

It's strange for them to think about it- that they're almost half way through their military training. It's... perhaps frightening. This is what they've been working towards, but that's not to say that they can't find what they want daunting. To save lives, and (if they're lucky enough) to save the world.

“However, demons are not immune to poisons, more specifically, those produced by earth class demons. In extreme circumstances, the poisonous plant matter some earth class demons create, can cause complete organ failure in both humans and demons. Usually by ingestion or contact with the bloodstream via cuts, and rarely just by the skin coming into contact with the poison.” Erskine pauses, only slightly breathless with his excitement. “Although this in itself is not a demon disease per say, it does show that demon's has weaknesses, even if that is only other demons.”

The blond can feel Bucky's gaze upon him, raising the little hairs on the nape of his neck in the best way possible. Its warm, and gives him a faint sense of security- his mind fully believing that the demon has his back. That he will protect the human from threats he doesn't perceive, and ones he does. Despite if those threats may be insignificant and distant, or impending and colossal. The demon acts upon them in the same way: critical in his analysis and potentially lethal with the movement of his shadows.

“But, there is something that we cannot explain. It is not a disease of the body as such, but one of the _mind.”_ Erskine watches the cadets' faces squint in confusion at the statement, gaze briefly flickering up to the obedient line of demons waiting for their next instructions. “It is rare, and only a few hundred cases of this occurring has been reported in as many years. Any guesses?”

The cadets are silent with blank faces, some turning their eyes back to the luminous screens of their laptops to avoid the doctor's expecting stare as he turns to them one by one. Steve doesn't recall reading about diseases in his father's journal- of the body nor mind. Its a peculiar thought though: that demons are so well evolved that there is very little that can defeat them.

It just goes to show how far up the food chain demons are, and how far humanity is yet to go. Regardless of the latest tech, there are still diseases that modern medicine cannot cure. As medicine has grown and matured, so have viruses, with new strains and mutations for human immune systems to tackle. Even for humans with known faulty genes, cures are still in the developmental stages. But even the amount of money you have doesn't matter when your own body has given up the fight of survival.

“No? Very well,” the doctor pushes his glasses more securely in place once more, as if to keep his students in a moment of suspense.“Although it is yet to be given a scientific term for diagnosis, it is characterised by extreme outbursts of aggression. Lashing out with seemingly no aim at anyone or anything. They cannot be calmed, and we do not know for reasons behind this sudden change in behaviour, and the only way to get them to stop is to kill them.”

Erskine halts to allow his words to sink in.

“These fits of rage have been documented in all lower classes of demon, of different levels and types. Around a hundred cases have been reported in bonded demons, both with new and stabilised bonds of varying compatibility.”

For demons to suddenly lose all sense of reason? To be so violent with no motivation is rather frightening to consider. That any demon, at any time, may change abruptly and cause irreparable damage. If one of their bonded demons were to become uncontrollable, Fury would surely break the bond without a second of considering the effects on the human cadet.

A demon, is a _demon._

An untameable demon, is a _threat._

An uncontrollable demon, is worth nothing to the academy _alive._

       

“So.” Steve closes the red journal with a slap of yellow pages, the leather warm from reading it for so long as he presses it between his palms. The blond rests on his stomach upon the firm mattress of his bed, elbows supporting his weight as he turns his head to look at the demon who lie on his side next to him.

“Hmm?” Bucky's head had sunk into the thin pillow peacefully, though his gaze had never once left the fluttering eyes of the blond as they scanned through ink-filled pages.

“Are there any diseases in your realm?” Steve asks inquisitively, placing the journal temporarily on the edge of the desk next to his watch.

“I don't really understand the term,” the demon admits gruffly.

“It's like... Let me put it this way, apart from another demon killing you, are there other ways for a demon to die? I'm going to assume old age isn't one of those things. But is there something that makes you sick?”

“Not that I have experienced.”

“That's a no, then?” The cadet's head tilts, as if to inspect the demon's face with greater intensity.

“Why so interested?” Bucky shifts to kiss the cream skin of Steve's arm, his metallic hand gently pressing against the dip of the younger man's back; akin to how one might touch something very delicate. Like a flower petal or the wings of a butterfly.

“Why not?” The blond counters with a grin.

“Your curiosity on such things is...” Bucky's voice fades out as he contemplates his next words. Or perhaps he just isn't able to describe quite how the smaller man's desire for knowledge makes the demon feel.

“Annoying? Weird?” Steve suggests, half expecting the dark class to agree with him while the other part of him wishes he wouldn't.

“I think _alluring_ might be the appropriate term,” the demon coaxes with that same smirk that has never once failed to warm Steve's chest and make his body weak.

“Yeah?” The blond nibbles his lower lip just as Bucky pushes up to bump their noses ever so slightly. The demon lets out a low hum of contentment.

“Mm.”

“Where did you learn to become so charming?” Steve giggles, losing himself in the entanglement of their auras and the deep vibrations of their bond.

“You tend to pick up a few things being around humans for so long,” the demon admits softly, stare dancing between a pair of silky, pink lips and dark lashes.

“I guess so...” Blue orbs shielded by pale eyelids, the blond leans in to kiss the demon's tender lips, only to pause just before they brush together. Steve's eyes snap open with a look of confusion. “Wait. What?”

“What?” Bucky pulls back just enough to see the cadet's frown.

“We haven't even been bonded for three years yet, surely that's not long considering how old you are?”

“I suppose its not.” Is all the dark class says.

The demon doesn't meet the blond's critical stare, choosing instead to focus on the door and the light which illuminates its outline from the lit hallway. That mere action only leaves Steve's mind to wonder about the flecks of information the dark class _isn't_ telling him. The younger man has this _feeling._ Although unsure of its origin or reason... its still there like a single mosquito biting at his insides. Nagging and pushing him into questioning the demon about the curiosity that itches underneath his skin.

“Bucky.” The blond's voice is gentle, not stern or accusing but begging for the demon's attention.

“Yes, my little warrior?” Listening to, but not observing the etch of trepidation in the human's tone, the demon drops down onto the pillow once again. Those metallic fingers fiddle with the hem of Steve's shirt without a thought.

“I'm going to say something.” The blond begins faintly, but with each word said, he gains just that little bit more confidence. “And if it isn't true, you must deny it.”

After a moment of quiet only filled by the sounds of a truck passing the dorms and the fretful growl of the pipes, Bucky meets his eyes with a blank expression- though no walls have been put in place.

“Okay,” the demon utters.

“You have been in this realm before we met.”

The demon says nothing.

Absolutely _nothing._

Steve feels like a fool, but his demon's silence is still an answer- no matter how much he doesn't want that to be the reply.

Their stares stay locked, taking in each other's reactions and the cadet is sure that he sees a glint of sharp silver in the depths of the demon's eyes. They stay like that until the blond's frown transforms into an agitated scowl as he pushes himself up to his knees on the bed. Bucky turns away onto his back, observing the tiny vines of green moss on the ceiling; when in all honestly, he would rather comfort the blond and confess everything to him...

“Aren't you going to say anything?”

“What exactly do you want me to say?” The dark class retorts, still refusing to meet the blond's stubborn expression- if he does so, he may give in.

“I... I don't know,” the younger man sighs, shoulders slumping with his hands clasped together in his lap. He feels so small next to such a powerful demon. “Just, perhaps, something about your past.”

“There isn't anything for me to tell you.”

“That's a blatant lie,” Steve deadpans, unyielding to the demon's efforts to forget the conversation.

“Then let me rephrase: there isn't anything I want to tell you.” There's no bite to it, and if anything, his tone reminds the human of a wounded dog on the verge of giving up its will. The blond isn't sure whether a little of the demon's past is coming closer to the forefront of his mind from where it had been locked away and forgotten by the creature of shadows.

“You can trust me, you know that, don't you?” Steve shuffles his position so that his hip aligns with the demons waist, legs folded to the side of himself just enough so that only his toes pass the edge of the bed. Carefully, the blond leans his right palm on the demon's rising and falling chest, those muscles a warmth that Steve yearns for in that moment. “There is nothing you could have done that would make me think any differently of you.”

“Steve, you couldn't possibly begin to understand.”

“I could try, if you would just talk to me. I want to know more about you.” The blond takes the demon's non metallic hand into his left, bringing it up to cup his cheek and Bucky's thumb instinctively rubs the smooth skin. Steve presses into the touch, momentarily closing his eyes, only to open them to find the demon watching him intently. The cadet's voice becomes a whisper in the shadows of the room. “I feel like I know nothing of your past and yet you know so much of mine.”

“There are some things I rather keep buried,” Bucky confesses. It's rather difficult for the demon to admit it... but Steve's soft persistence is able to melt the cold barriers the dark class had put in place so long ago.

“Like what happened with you and that death class demon?”

Though the blond does have a habit of pushing the demon too far, especially where his past is concerned- in those moments, it's as if some of those barriers snap and lash out with their icy shards.

“Don't test my patience,” the demon warns, his touch recoiling from the cadet's tentative hold.

“I'm not going anywhere, Bucky.” Steve urges, quickly catching the demon's retreating hand, entwining their fingers stubbornly, unwilling to let Bucky go. Those blue eyes stare into the demon's, and Bucky sees something brimming on their surface that isn't his own reflection staring back at him. The demon doesn't quite understand what it is.“I just... I'm not going to force you to tell me everything about your past. I get that the war... It must have been difficult and perhaps you're right, I can't understand some of the things you have gone through. And maybe it would be better if I never know what you've experienced...”

“Steve-” Bucky calls his name softly before being interrupted.

_Devotion? Passion? Adamancy? Desperation? Compassion? Desire? Grief? Distress? Regret?_

It could be none of those sensations, or it could be many of them embedded into one another until they become something entirely new to the demon's perception. Like he's seeing it for the first time, and realising just how much it oozes through their bond.

“I'm not done.” The sudden, abrupt words don't surprise the demon in the least with their sheer stubbornness. Still, he quietens as he observes the expression that never once changes even as the blond continues. “I can't help but want to know everything about you, because you mean so much to me and I really hope that we can survive the battle the world seems to be having. Together. I want to be with you, always. In every way... But I want you to have the confidence in me to tell me things. Even stuff you don't want to say, because sometimes it's easier to share the pain with someone else. And I want to be that someone for you.”

Although Bucky isn't sure what name to give the emotion becoming one with the two seas of blue before him... he is sure that he sees a flame burning brighter and brighter in those very same eyes. An emotion that is as heated and stubborn as a forest fire. An emotion that cannot be swayed by the fear of the unknown. An emotion Bucky never wants to look away from; entranced and captivated by it and so much more...

An emotion that even the demon feels beginning to warm the lonely, freezing, overbearing ache in his core. Or perhaps, his body has already become warm with the foreign flood of that emotion.

Bucky pulls their fingers apart, only to tenderly grasp the back of the blond's throat, coaxing him to lean onto the demon's bare chest so that they may kiss. Just a firm press of lips with eyes closed to allow them to forget everything but the feel of being _connected_. Both physically with their bodies, and with their unseen bond that is like a tight cord pulling them closer.

Neither human or demon are sure who moves their lips first, or perhaps they did so at the same time. That gentleness soon becomes needy with the swipe of tongues and its just _not enough._ Its too much and yet they can only crave more. Bucky's metallic hand tugs at the fabric of Steve's shirt, and the blond instantly breaks their kiss to haul the material over his head to be discarded on the floor. The demon lets out a low growl of pleasure as the younger man places both hands on Bucky's chest to steady himself, one leg sliding over the demon's to straddle his barely-clothed hips.

The blond can't stop the small (most definitely shy) grin that shows the whites of his teeth as he gazes down at the demon. The pendant seems almost dull compared to the vibrant hue of Steve's aura, like honey dripping all around him as dark shadows integrate themselves into the mass. Hands finding the dip of Steve's waist, the demon's thumbs run along his stomach, over the two pink nubs of his chest; the action eliciting a gasp that might as well be a moan from the blond, before finally tracing the cadet's ribs to then glide down his spine.

Warmth... that demonic heat... Steve can feel it pouring into his flesh like lava and it makes his skin flush as if rose petals are slowly appearing upon his form. Soft and delicate, and the demon hums his approval as his hands repeat the same motions again and again- a little rough, but almost entirely gentle and tender. Head thrown back, lips parted and eyes lidded, Steve doesn't even realise he's grinding himself against the demon: too lost in this wonderful sensation. It's like his body is amongst the clouds, bathing in the sun's rays despite the room getting darker with the shadows that fill every crevice and corner.

“Bucky... I- I'm not going to last long like this.” Steve is already hard and aching in his briefs, the rocking movement of his hips providing just enough friction to swell the spark of pleasure in his stomach, flaring lower into his thighs. _“It feels too good.”_

“Mmm, that's okay, Steve,” Bucky murmurs, intoxicated by the faint panting moans that leave the blond's throat. “Can I?”

“Please. Yes,” the blond whines.

Growl caught in his chest, the demon effortlessly flips them over, their forms bouncing on the mattress twice with the forceful, yet careful movement. Steve is already sliding his underwear down the silkiness of his thighs and the demon quickly removes his own before helping the smaller man slip the fabric from his calves until they too join the messy pile on the floor.

Moaning in near-ecstasy, the blond's thighs meet the demon's hips to pull him closer, arms wrapping around Bucky's shoulders as his ankles entwine behind him. The dark class peppers kisses down the smooth strip of the younger man's throat, every so often lightly taking the skin between his teeth to draw out more breathless gasps and moans from the man underneath him.

While Bucky's metallic thumb circles one pert nipple -the darker flesh like velvet under the sensors- his other hand presses into the cold wall above them to balance himself. The demon grinds their bodies together, rocking against the blond in rhythmic rolls of his hips to provide friction to the slick, pinkened cocks nestled between their stomachs.

Nails scratching down the demon's broad back, it's not long until they are both moaning into each others mouths, swallowing the sounds of their climaxes. That moment of hot release erases any thoughts about the past, present or future... and that's exactly what they needed. Once they've caught their breaths (or rather, when Steve does so) the blond can't stop the smile that appears as he pecks the demons lips before finally letting out a giggle, much to the demon's amusement and own low laughter.

The dark class cannot resist the shining smile lined by those plump, reddened lips- especially when he is the one to have made them glisten like gems from their all-too-desperate kisses. Bucky isn't sure why, but it makes him feel more at ease. That is, seeing the cadet with such an expression of joy. It calms his wildest shadows, and soothes the old aches of his past that even now he struggles to forget.

However, he does want to share his past with the younger man- wants that more than anything, in fact. But there is an ongoing battle inside himself. One that prevents him from allowing certain information to be revealed. It isn't that Steve's broadening knowledge could put demons in danger (it could, but Bucky certainly doesn't lose sleep over that thought) as it's far more cruel and devious than that... No, what the blond comes to realise, could put the human himself in danger. And in all honesty, Bucky isn't entirely convinced that Steve's opinion of the dark class won't change with his past becoming uncovered.

There's no easy solution to this. The demon can only gradually unearth what has long since been buried.

It's not until later that night, wrapped securely in each other's arms, that Steve is on the verge of falling into a peaceful sleep as the demon's whispers ghost the shell of his ear.

“I have been in your realm before... More than once.”

“Did you have a reason to?” Steve murmurs, not bothering to open his eyes- his gaze would only be met with the darkness that their whispers share.

“Perhaps.”

“Very ominous, Bucky,” the blond jokes, his voice vibrating with the slightest breath of sleepy laughter. Not even a few seconds later, he is drifting back into the embrace of dreams when the demon mutters a response. So quietly that Steve wouldn't have heard it if Bucky's lips weren't so close to his ear.

“I'm so glad I met you, my little warrior.”

“Me too... I guess we got pretty lucky bonding with each other.”

Was it luck?

Was it chance?

Or was it _fate?_

Maybe the reason doesn't matter. They _are_ bonded. If one asks too many questions on how or why... the answers may just become further locked away.

“I would have resisted anyone else,” the demon declares, and the younger man's heart skips a delightful beat.

“I thought you were going to kill me at first,” Steve confesses, reliving the moment those cold silver eyes that had stared at him as if they were two knives penetrating his skin.

“What?”Bucky says, louder than his previously soft-spoken words as his brows draw together.

Steve shuffles in the demon's arms, laying the demon on his back so that the blond can slide his front onto that muscular form. Arms folded across firm pectorals to rest his chin upon them, the duvet wrinkles around their bodies to twist around their legs and waists.

“When you came through the gateway, you grabbed my throat,” the smaller man says bluntly, not bothering to make his words sweeter. It's just plain fact, even the demon knows it- but that isn't a reason for the blond to say it with any resentment.

“I wasn't going to hurt you.” Bucky's metallic hand nonchalantly takes a curl of Steve's hair between his fingertips before smoothing the soft strands behind the cadet's ear.

“I know, you were gentle... But, why didn't you? You had the perfect opportunity.”

“Attraction,” the demon says without even a hint of embarrassment or shame. As if it's rather easy for him to admit such a thing.

“What do you mean?” The blond questions, more than a bit puzzled. Though perhaps it's that he is more surprised than anything.

Bucky looks up at Steve, eyes like a predator and yet the cadet doesn't feel like prey. If anything, he has that same look of hunger in his own blue orbs.

“I was attracted to you, instantly. Your eyes... You looked so stubborn and even though your heart was beating so fast, you weren't afraid of me.”

“I always thought you were just teasing me when we met, I didn't realise you were actually hitting on me.” The blond's siren-like giggle fills the space between them as he moves to lie on his stomach next to the demon, leaning on his elbows with his jaw cupped by his palms.

“Hitting on you?” Bucky raises a brow at that, though his gaze is trailing down the naked cream skin of the younger man's back, that silkiness seemingly glimmering just a enough in the night's light to tempt the demon's attention.

“Yeah, uh, flirting.” Steve blushes, a pink mist tainting his cheeks in embarrassment.

The covers realign around them as the demon hauls himself up into a sitting position. An effortless motion like they hadn't just been slowly drifting into the relative blankness of sleep. The blond is caught by surprise when the demon plants a kiss to the heated skin of his cheek; metallic fingers tracing the exposed pale silkiness of his back where the shirt is still absent.

“Of course,” Bucky says softly, as if his actions couldn't have ever possibly been anything but flirting with the younger man. Though they are both more than aware that their relationship has surpassed that of infatuating efforts, into a far more intense passion and desire for the other that has been ingrained into the foundation of fondness and adoration.

The blond doesn't question the demon's motives as the metallic plates of his fingers drift up along the vertebra of Steve's spine, reaching and palming the space between his shoulder blades before sliding back down effortlessly to where them hem of his briefs would have been. The younger man can feel the warmth of Bucky's breath against his neck, and instinctively finds himself lowering his head to expose his nape to the demon. The dark class lets out a low hum in the cadet's ear at the submissive gesture.

Bucky kisses the tender skin, brushing his lips over the cord of the pendant that rests around the blond's neck to dangle at his chest. The blond very rarely removes the pendant, even though there isn't a need for him to wear it when Bucky is a constant presence beside him. It's difficult to comprehend that there may be something (or rather, someone) who could stop the rhythmic beats of Bucky's warming heart. As much as Steve hates to admit it, but his bonded demon is not the strongest creature living in the two opposing realms.

Steve knows that, and unbeknown to the blond, Bucky is more than aware of that fact.

“My little warrior...” The demon sighs deeply, forehead resting against the curve of the blond's shoulder.

“Whats wrong?”

“Would it be an appropriate time for me to kiss you?”

Steve laughs at that, feeling the demon's smile on his shoulder before he too chuckles along with the cadet- their combined laughter vibrating through their bodies in turn. Shadows tangle and coil in the darkest corners of the room, though the stars outside the window burn bright and clear without clouds to tarnish that light. Their glow almost overrides that of the electrics illuminating the academy outside.

“I don't think it's at all appropriate for a demon to kiss their human.” Steve shakes his head to discard the thought before he can dwell on too much. “Why ask, anyway? You can just kiss me. I told you that... God, I don't know how long ago I said that.”

It seems a lifetime ago that the pair became comfortable around each other. Well... for Steve to become desensitised to the idea of such a charming and attractive demon that evokes new, unfelt emotions inside the expanse of his chest.

“As long as it's not in front of another human,” Bucky counters begrudgingly.

“Uh, yeah. I doubt anyone would react well if they saw us making out...again.” Steve cringes, remembering vividly how disgusted and angry Sam had been when he had caught the bonded pair kissing. Even now, Sam still holds a grudge against the dark class, though the blond doubts the two would ever make peace in any circumstances. At least not in situations he can bear himself to imagine.

“I will kill anyone who tries to separate us,” Bucky remarks, nothing but honest.

“You would kill everyone within a hundred-mile radius if you didn't have a reason not to. Though I guess just saying a hundred-miles is a bit of an insult to you, considering how powerful you are.”

“I would never harm your mother.” The sincerity of Bucky's words can be seen in his gaze as much as in his tone.

“Only because she's completely smitten with you.” Steve rolls his eyes, thinking back to how he had been able to (well, with Tony's help in just ever so slightly hacking the computer systems) speak to his mother on his birthday after the Christmas Sarah and Bucky had met. After wishing him a happy birthday, one of the first questions (and many after that) she asked concerned the blond's _'friend'_ and how they were both doing at the academy.

_'How's James? Is he doing okay'_

_'Is James coming to ours for Christmas again this year?'_

_'Do you get a lot of spare time in the evenings with James?'_

_'What is James' favourite dessert? I'll make something special for Christmas pudding this year'._

_'Do you need me to buy anything for you for when you're both here?'_

_'You're both staying safe, aren't you?'_

By the end of the conversation, Steve had never blushed and stuttered so much in his life.

“She is a very nice woman, very kind.” Bucky hums, mouth a mischievous smirk- a complete opposite to how serious he had been seconds ago.

“I'm still annoyed with you about that,” the blond grumbles.

“No, you're not.” The demon chuckles lowly, leaning in to kiss the smaller man and yet simultaneously shifting that beautifully petite frame; so that the cadet's back sinks into the mattress as Bucky hovers over him. Encased in the demon's shadows and protected against the realities of the world outside the dorm room.

“That's not the point.” Steve smiles, golden locks falling into his eyes, but before he can brush them away, Bucky's fingers gently caress the strands out of his vision. The younger man is silent in return, looking up with shining irises as a bolt of realisations seeps through his entire form.

Bucky is _gentle._

His actions are always tender and full of warmth and it makes Steve feel giddy with how good the sensation that flows through him truly is.

_How exactly did this happen?_

Since when exactly did Steve seriously starting thinking about _sleeping_ with a demon?

Since when did Steve decide that he wants to be able to _spend the rest of his life_ with a demon?

To be held in his arms and for his tears to be kissed away. To share their laughter, have arguments over silly little things only to apologise and embrace each other again. To worry about the other and bend the rules just to protect them. To exchange stories and ideas and their contrasting views, no matter how strange they may seem to the other. To just be in the other's company without any expectations or anxieties; no fears about their future.

Steve wants all of that... desires it more than anything, and more deeply than he can ever admit.

But, why do such thoughts have to be so painful?

Why does Steve have to feel this way?

Does the forbidden always taste so sweet?

Does the forbidden always evoke such desire? Such longing and yearning?

Steve is only sure of one thing: that whatever he feels for Bucky, is very real, and it is something he can neither deny, ignore or eradicate. The demon has become a part of his life, but he has also become a part in Steve's heart.


	34. How Can Your Shadows Teach Me So Much, When They Have Only Ever Known Darkness?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ thirty-three:  
> **Erskine gave a lecture on demon immune systems.  
> **Steve found out that Bucky has been in the human realm before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year!! I'm am forever grateful to all of you, and I wish each and every one of you a wonderful year.
> 
> Let's start off this year with a new chapter, and an announcement about the story:
> 
> Alright, so, I have every chapter fully planned out, and I have estimated The Demon Bond to be about 44-45 chapters long.  
> However, this does not include a bonus 'chapter' I would like to share with you all (which is also fully planned out). I will talk about this 'bonus chapter' at a later date, as it will not be uploaded until just before (or even after) the final two chapters of The Demon Bond are released. But, I will say that it will be Bucky's *complete* backstory until the very moment he becomes bonded with Steve. If this is something you would all like to read, please leave a comment on here or on The Demon Bond IG/Tumblr accounts.

The black leather ear protection doesn't quite fit Steve as snugly as everyone's else's, but it does enough to dull the echoing bangs on either side of him. The gun magazine is cool to the touch as the cadet inserts it into the magazine well, tapping the end with the palm of his hand to make sure that it has securely slotted into place. The firearm is a standard silver 9mm handgun with a black grip, and as Steve shifts the metal slide at the top, a round loads into the chamber. 

Adjusting his position so that his feet are shoulder length apart, his right just slightly further back than the other, the blond raises the gun. Dominant right hand around the gun grip and pushing out, the left joins it in stabilising the weapon, elbows just ever so slightly bent just like his knees. Thumbs on one side of the gun frame, his right index finger rests on the other and the blond has to take a deep breath before allowing it to bend and ghost across the trigger. 

_BANG!_

Bullet just barely hitting the target at the end of the shooting range, the blond grimaces as another round drops into the chamber ready for Steve to fire again. It's not an essential skill: they will rarely be required to use guns or any sort of weaponry at all that doesn't originate from the energy coursing through their bonds. Still, the blond can't stop the feeling of frustration that builds up like weeds in his chest. 

Steve can feel his demon's amused eyes upon his back, and when he glances over his shoulder, he isn't the least bit surprised to find Bucky smiling to himself. Checking to find that the rest of his team-mates are still busy concentrating in their own sectioned-off areas, the blond motions his demon forth with a nod of his head. 

Pushing off from the wall that he had been patiently waiting against, the demon strolls to the cadet's side with a smug expression plastered across his features. There's a predatory aura around him, and yet Steve's feet stay exactly where they firmly stand. Although a demon walking towards a human (soldier or not) should make them feel weak in the knees, perhaps even terrified, the blond feels nothing but a spark of excitement igniting the flame inside him. Bucky is _his_ demon after all; it would be meaningless to fear him, even though one should always be wary of demons. 

“Somethin' funny?” Steve lowers the gun so that the muzzle points at an angle towards the grey floor. 

“Just enjoying myself,” Bucky muses, aligning is body against the smaller man's back, groin nudging against the slope of his ass. 

“Mhm, I bet you are.” Steve instinctively sinks into the touch as the demon's hands grasp the sharp curves of his hips. “Think you could do any better?” The cadet challenges with a grin.

“It's worth a shot.” Bucky nips at the pink shell of the blond's ear which isn't quite covered by the sleek black material, before doing the same against the unconcealed skin of his throat. 

“Did you just make a _pun?”_ Steve rolls his shoulders to shake the demon off, without his jacket, he is unable to cover the marks the demon would surely leave behind upon the silky flesh. The cadet would much rather avoid any conflicting conversations and false explanations if someone were to ask about them. 

“Did I do so incorrectly?” The demon enquires innocently. 

“No, just... It's so strange, it catches me off guard sometimes- a demon with a sense of humour,” the blond jests. Bucky hums, as if listening to the younger man without actually taking in the meaning of the words spoken. 

“Here.” Bucky's hands gently grip the cadet's elbows, lifting them just enough so that Steve's hands raise the gun towards the target. “The problem is, that you're concentrating too much.” 

“Don't I need to concentrate properly? This is a loaded gun,” the blond scoffs. 

“It's different than when you use my powers to manifest the shield.” 

“How do you know this?” The younger man questions, fighting the urge to turn to the dark class with a raised brow.

“Observation,” the demon replies simply. “Try again.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Aim, then shoot. Don't think about it for too long, you need to trust the weapon to hit the target in the centre, rather than keep imagining its path,” Bucky explains clearly, though voice more quiet than usual as to not risk getting overheard and caught. “Its not going to disappear, it can figure out the way itself.” 

With a sigh, the blond shifts his stance against the demon. Body more confident with Bucky so close to him. He can practically feel the demon's shadow's wrapping around his limbs as they absorb any lasting traces of self doubt. But, Steve hesitates with his finger on the trigger as the creature of shadows remains pressed against him. 

“You going to let go of me or-”

“Wasn't planning to,” the dark class replies instantly, without hesitation and Steve knows that he must be wearing that devilish smirk. 

“Alright, then.” Steve pulls the trigger, and the gunshot rings in the room as the bullet cascades through the air and (to the blond's relief) into more or less the centre of the target. It's not perfect, but at least it's progress. “Huh... That actually worked.” 

The target is a grey mass with the vague shape of a human-like creature. Its black outline and rings of white signal how close to the centre any bullets become when shot from the other end of the firing range. Divided by long walls, each section effectively gives individual soldiers a little privacy when practising using firearms, though nothing is completely enclosed to allow the loud bangs to spread and dissipate in the air. 

“Of course it did, my little warrior.” Bucky almost seems offended at the mere thought that the cadet didn't think his accuracy would improve so much.

“Thank you, Bucky.” Steve lowers the gun, casting his gaze over his shoulder in search of the demon's eyes. 

“What for?”

“Helping me.”

“My pleasure.” Bucky wraps his arms around the blond's slim waist as he presses a kiss to the younger man's sharp cheekbone. “Although, I don't really see the use in the weapon.” 

“Why's that?” The cadet frowns.

“It isn't effective. I assume it is supposed to be used on demons.”

“When a symbol is marked into it, yes. These are just practice ones, they use proper ones in the human military. Besides, it's a skill that may come in handy, you never know,” Steve explains. Though the look on Bucky's face says that the human has by no means convinced the demon. 

“Surely they don't think that such weaponry can destroy my kind?”

“They worked well enough until scientists figured out how to bond demons and soldiers.” Steve points outs- not at all arrogantly, just stating a fact.

“Not on powerful demons,” Bucky counters.

“Yeah, they didn't exactly hurt demons at more than level seventy, but they weren't really meant to be used on very powerful demons in the first place.” Steve pauses as another, more important question comes to mind. Like a tiny fly buzzing into his vision. “Anyway, how do you know that? Because the one Fury used didn't hurt you?” 

“Mm. Somethin' like that,” the dark class murmurs.

Before Steve has the chance to reply, an alarm buzzes to inform the cadets that their training session is up. As the blond removes the magazine from the gun with a slight _click_ , the dark class steps back as he releases his hold of the cadet. That loss of radiating heat makes Steve crave his demon's embrace once more, even though they're already taken enough risks for one day.

Just as the cadet places the handgun back into its clip on the wall, a figure steps into his peripheral vision. Not quite as tall as Bucky, and certainly not as broad, but clad in the same uniform as Steve.

“Hey, Sam,” the blond greets his friend with a smile.

Sam's brow is cocked as he perceives the bonded pair, arms folded in clear disapproval at how close the two are standing together.Bucky glances at him with as much distaste before his gaze inevitably turns back to the blond, who places the silver gun magazine back into its rightful slot next to numerous others in rows on the wall below the weapon.

“How'd you do?” Sam asks, uncrossing his arms.

“Getting better, its slow progress,” Steve admits as he turns to his friend. “What about you?”

“Good, actually. Though Gideon and I practised together at the range a lot when we were younger with our dad.” Sam's eyes show just the slightest hint of joy as he speaks, as if that euphoric memory is playing out before him.

“Bet it feels strange training here alone, then,” the blond sympathises.

“I don't think I'm alone: I have you, don't I? Our team. But it does feel odd that they're not here with me.” Sam's shoulders sink just enough for the blond to notice, but before the smaller man can express any words of comfort-

“You two coming to dinner or what?” Tony interrupts, head poking round the corner of the divider.

“Yeah, I'm starved.” Sam clasps his hands together to stretch out his arms.

The rest of the _Avengers_ wait for them by the exit, _Hydra_ having already left to embrace the September wind outside and the delightful scent of the canteen.

Steve can't wait to get back to the dorms to be on his own with Bucky. It's like an obsession... but the blond isn't sure that he wants his addiction to be cured. 

        

 

_**Leave your demon in the containment facilities before going on leave. This is a safety precaution due to your demon's level and unpredictability. You may collect them upon your return on the 27 th. -N.Fury** _

 

That's the message Steve woke up to a few days before Christmas. The _Avengers_ had been able to get a little longer holiday off for Christmas by sacrificing their chance at seeing their families earlier in the year. Although the blond knows that Bucky will inevitable make his way back to him, he still couldn't fight the guilt that pulled at the strings of his heart when he had left the demon in containment that morning. Even now, he still finds himself fidgeting in the absence of the dark class to soothe him. But, that's not to say that Steve isn't grateful for his mother's company.

It feels odd to eat home made cooking again- even if it's something simple like sandwiches, pasta and frosted cake. The cadet doesn't think he's eaten so much in the space of an afternoon and evening for a quite along time, and perhaps he ate too much... But the food was rather delicious and brought back more than a few childhood memories. When the blond was younger, every time he survived a round a treatment for whatever illnesses they were trying to cure, his mother would always bake him a small cake with blue and red icing to make it that much more enthralling to the small child. 

“When will James be arriving?” Sarah asks from the red fabric chair situated beside the couch. It makes the living area more cramped, but she had insisted that it was a good bargain from the local charity shop, and that they should have three seats if _'James will be coming round often'_. Steve couldn't have argued with that, even if he wanted to.

“I'm not too sure. It'll be tonight, though. I'll stay up until he gets here.”

“Alright, sweetheart. I'm going to bed now. I'll see you both when I get home from work tomorrow evening.” Steve's mother reluctantly stands up from the soft padding of the chair.

“Yeah, be careful on your way. The paths are really icy, I almost slipped in front of the building this morning when I got here.” Steve honestly isn't sure how he didn't fall flat on his ass. If he had, and Bucky had been with him... the demon surely would have been more than slightly amused.

“I will. Goodnight, Steve.” Sarah kisses her son's cheek once, skinny hands upon his shoulders before she leaves him on the sofa in favour of rest. Though as she reaches the small hallway, Sarah turns to look at the blond. “I really am proud of you, Steve.”

“I know, Ma. I'm proud of you too.” The cadet truly means every word.

“My, my. I think some of James' charm is rubbing off on you.” His mother laughs, and the cadet can only let out a groan of embarrassment in response.

“Ma...”

“Goodnight,” she calls, heading down the hallway with the smallest of smiles on her glossy red lips.

“Night, Ma.”

Steve waits until the click of her door shutting resounds in his ears before leaning back into the fluffy cushions that decorate the piece of furniture. They still have that distinct old, musky smell to them just like the chair, though the blond doesn't particularly mind it. After a few more minutes of the television playing more Christmas films that Steve knows all too well, the cadet decides to head into the kitchen to make a warm drink. 

The radiators are clunking with their refusal to function, leaving the apartments cold with their residents wrapped up in jumpers and thick woollen socks in an attempt to keep the shivering at bay. It's only marginally effective. 

The kettle boils.

Steve waits.

The tea brews.

Steve waits.

The sugar melts.

Steve waits.

Waits for his demon to come to him.

Mug grasped between two palms, the blond takes the steaming drink back to the sofa so that he can curl up with the heat radiating into his hands. The sky is a mass of grey clouds, contrasting the amber lights of the street lamps far below the sixth floor of the apartment complex. The time displayed on Steve's watch flashes and flickers every minute while the blond sips the sweet tea as his eyes absent-mindedly stare at a re-run of some ancient black and white film. 

Eventually, as the cadet tilts the mug to his lips, all he gets are pieces of herbs and the remains of wet sugar clumped together on the tip of his tongue. Leaning forward to place the empty mug on the coffee table, the blond settles back into the sofa one more; his feet curled up next to him as he presses his head to the armrest. 

He never intended to fall asleep. But at some point the darkness had overtaken his vision as his heart rate slowed and his breathing became as gentle as the fluttering wings of a butterfly. When he does open his eyes to the gentle hum of the television and the drone of the wind outside, the cadet isn't the least bit surprised at the form sitting on the floor in front of him. 

“Hey,” Steve whispers. The blond reaches out to run his hand through Bucky's hair, only to find a blanket draped over his petite form. “How long have you been sitting there for?” 

“One hour and thirty-five minutes,” the demon informs him softly, leaning forward to greet pink lips with his own. Steve hums into the light kiss before his arms wrap themselves around Bucky's shoulders.

“You should have woken me up,” the younger man mutters into Bucky's ear.

“You looked very peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you.”

“Mmm, so you were watching me sleep instead?”

“The view was rather... pretty.” The demon chuckles, nosing at the golden strands that curl around the smaller man's ear.

Steve _'tsk's_ at Bucky's choice of words, though his heart isn't really into scolding the demon. Not when the fiend is wearing that heated smirk that makes the blond lose his resolve all too often. “Don't make a habit of observing me while I'm unconscious.” 

“Who's to say I already haven't?” 

“Because watching me sleep can't be at all interesting? Otherwise you are one very bored demon,” the blond jests, pulling back to look at the dark class in the eye with a single raised brow. 

“Not when I'm with you. Asleep or not, I enjoy your company.”

“Mhm, I'm sure you don't have ulterior motives,” Steve teases, giving the demon a sly smile as he stands. The cadet pats Bucky's shoulder once as if taunting a wild beast without the faintest trace of fear. “Come on, let's go to bed.” 

The demon follows the human down the corridor into the quiet of Steve's room, closing the door behind them with a kick of his foot. It's a literal matter of seconds until Bucky's clothes are a messy pile on the floor, oblivious (or rather, ignoring) the cadet's glare until he's pulling back the covers of the bed and opening up his arms for the younger man who only just manages to take his jumper off. Steve couldn't have possibly resisted that smile as he crawls into the demon's embrace, the main light flickering off with the tiniest spark of electricity. 

There's the patter of sleet against the window, the particles catching the lights of the street lamps and glinting like falling stars across the city. But all the demon can perceive, are the lullaby beats of the human's heart as he falls into a deep slumber; face buried in the dip of Bucky's shoulder. Warm and protected. Safe... Yes, the blond falls asleep instantly in the arms of his demon- the creature whose embrace he should fear the most. 

Neither cadet or demon stir until the clang of the front door closing vibrates through the apartment, regardless of how gently it was jolted shut. Steve groans, only to press himself further into the heat of the demon's bare chest as if the mere thought of waking up is like trying to climb a humongous tree. To pull oneself up from the realm of dreams can take effort that the blond would rather conserve. Especially if his mind is numb and calm, with worrisome thoughts and foreign shadows absent. 

Rays of orange drip through the slit in the curtains, becoming more yellow and clear as the morning sun settles more firmly in the sky. Bucky kisses the blond's temple in an effort to rouse him, and those thick lashes batter as the younger man's blue orbs look up at the demon. 

“Mornin',” Steve smiles, voice still raspy from sleep.

“Your mother left earlier,” the demon states as his metallic fingers stroke through the soft strands at the nape of the blond's neck.

“Mm, it's just us today,” Steve explains quietly, eyelids closing once more. The strings of sleep continue to pull at his exhausted form, encouraging his mind into numbness. “She's working until this evening. But she's got Christmas off tomorrow and the day after that too.”

“Your mother works hard like you do,” Bucky comments, as if intrigued.

“I guess it's where I get it from,” Steve laughs, before his eyes suddenly widen- as if life itself is flooding into those blue orbs. “Oh! I have something for you. A few things actually.”

“For me?”

“Yes, for you.” Steve jumps out of bed, leaving the demon with a confused expression plastered on his face. The cadet shuffles through a plastic bag at the bottom of his wardrobe, drawing the demon's attention- not that he has to try very hard to do that. “Its nothing much, but you kind of need them.” 

“What is it?” The demon enquires, his curiosity obvious.

“Here. Clothes.” Steve offers the neatly folded black jeans, soft underwear and a blue, long-sleeved shirt to the demon. Those, and a black hoodie that can conceal the collar around the Bucky's throat when worn. The blond may or may not have saved up enough money to buy the demon the cheap fabric on his way home. And he may or may not have gotten strange looks buying clothes that clearly are not in his size range. “My Ma might get suspicious if you wear the exact same clothes every time she sees you. So, you can use these while you're staying here. Its pretty basic, but I hope they're okay for you...” 

“I don't have any complaints.” Bucky smiles as he relieves the items from the cadet's grasp.

“If you don't like them I can take them back before the shop-”

“Thank you,” the demon says suddenly, the politeness catching the younger man off-guard.

“What?”

“Thank you, for the clothes. I will wear them today.” The demon is already getting up to slip into the clothes before the blond can propose to take them back in exchange for something in Bucky's tastes. But the dark class is clearly content- the clothes were a gift from a certain young soldier after all. 

“I-uh... You're welcome.” Steve flushes a dark shade of pink, skin warming... not in embarrassment... But, perhaps, happiness?

It must be happiness. For what else could possibly be causing the flutter in his chest like leaves being swept into the air by a gentle breeze? What else could cause his body to heat as if he is a cloud being warmed by the sun's rays? What else could possibly make his smile shine so brightly whenever he sees the demon... or even just a thought of his name? 

It must be happiness.

But perhaps its something more than that too.

The demon sets the fork down with a light clatter, his bowl of freshly washed and cut fruit now empty. The early afternoon sun beams through the window in split rays to bathe the bonded pair in its diluted hue. They sit adjacent to each other at the dining table, the room silent except for the faint sound of the blond chewing his sandwich as the demon stares at him. The blond doesn't take any notice; no longer uncomfortable with Bucky's curious looks and unprovoked gazes. That's not to say that the younger man doesn't wonder what the demon is thinking, it's just that he has grown used to those unwavering silver-flecked eyes burning his skin with their persistence. 

“The picture in your room of the man... He is your father,” the demon blurts out, surprising the cadet out of his own thoughts.

Steve pauses, the corner of his sandwich against the white of his teeth before he slowly places it back down on the ceramic plate in confusion.

“Um, yeah. What- why...” Steve clears his throat with a cough. The blond feels as if his is lost in a dark forest, the trees so tall that they reach the sky and block out the sun altogether... for he has no clue as to what the demon is thinking. “Why bring that up?”

The dark class hadn't mentioned anything about it before. Not the last time they were here exactly a year ago, and until now, neither the human nor demon had brought up the topic of Steve's deceased father. 

“I have a question about him.”

“Okay...” It's one long, agonising moment until Bucky speaks again. Almost as if he is aware that the subject is a sensitive one.

“The journal in the picture is the same one he gave you, yes?”

“Yeah, he's always had the same journal.” The cadet's brows furrow in perplexion, unsure of the path the demon's thoughts wander.

“But the one he is holding, does not have the symbol on it,” the demon states carefully, analysing the blond's minute expressions from the creases of his eyes to the slight tremble of his lower lip.

“The star?”

“Yes.”

“You must be mistaken then. The journal has always had the star on the front, at least for as long as I remember.” Steve averts his gaze, about to continue eating when the demon's tender words has him freezing in place once more.

“Are you sure?”

Those mere words... they have burrowed underneath the blond's flesh to scratch his bones.

“Of course... Though now I'm less sure.” The smaller man leans against the hard back of the chair, only to turn to the demon with the simplest demand: “show me.”

The demon immediately stands, his footsteps thudding towards the cadet's room as the blond follows him with a sickly, uncertain feeling in his stomach. Akin to the sensation of sinking under brutal waves without a glimpse of land in sight. As soon as he reaches the dark class, Bucky holds out the frame to him; its corners grey with fragments of dust that most certainly fail to lessen the stubborn, firm expression and stature displayed. Steve takes it (although hesitantly) and blue eyes rake over the image without a word. That is... until blond brows draw closer in a frown.

“There's no star...”

“There isn't,” Bucky confirms.

“I've never noticed that before. He must have added it then.” There is nothing in the book's content that suggests any reason as to why Steve's father would have added the star to the cover.

However, Joseph Rogers was as obsessed with demons and the military as Steve is... which only means that there must be a reason -one of significance- for the star to be embedded into the front of the journal. Perhaps... the military holds some of the answers to the questions that are currently swarming the cadet's mind. Each unanswered query is like a crow in the sky, blocking out the sun's light in a mass of black-feathered bodies.

But, the biggest question is more like an unmovable grey cloud, rather than the crows that can be chased away.

“Bucky.”

“Yes, my little warrior.” It's not a query... just a reply.

“The symbol on your arm... its the same star as the one on the journal.” Steve places the picture frame back amongst the others on his desk, subconsciously refusing to meet the observant gaze of the dark class.

“It is,” he says, keeping his voice soft. The demon can perceive the blond's vulnerability as easily as a vulture can spot the wounds of an injured animal. Without restraint, Bucky's metallic fingers caress the pale skin of Steve's arm. That mere action gives the cadet the confidence to look the demon in the eye.

“Is that a coincidence?”

“I didn't know your father if that is what you are asking.” Bucky's touch retreats just a fraction, hovering over the slim muscle of Steve's forearm, brushing against the tiny golden hairs there. Almost as if waiting for the cadet to consent to his embrace.

“Did you-” The blond is interrupted before he can even get the words out: Bucky knew exactly what he was going to ask. Can feel that particle of unease radiating through the vibrations of their bond like a flicker of apprehension or doubt.

“I didn't kill him either.”

“Are you telling me the truth?” Steve questions, though it comes across more similar to a command than anything else. Though his voice is... the demon finds it oddly unguarded.

“Yes.”

Steve stares into the silver-flecks that swim in the blue of Bucky's eyes. Like little silver fish swimming through an ocean's storm. The younger man hasn't seen even half of what Bucky has witnessed in his life: things that make the centre of one's eyes dark and cold. But, in that moment, it's like the blond is gazing into glass no longer frosted, but one becoming clear with sincerity.

He trusts the demon.

“Okay.” A single nod of his head, and then the blond turns towards the door. But Steve barely had the chance to take one step when the demon continues... and those words spoken make a chill run through the younger man's spine.

“I may know which demon killed your father.”

Steve glances over his shoulder at the demon, his face a mixture of emotions that make it hard for the demon to read and, most of all, understand them.

_Grief._

It is not something the demon is accustomed to, nor does he comprehend how to deal with it in others.

“You-”

“It is a possibility. I can not know for sure unless we access your father's files.”

“I don't want revenge.” The younger man's arms stubbornly fold over his chest, shoulders up defensively as a lie leaves his lips. Though the cadet had convinced himself many years before that it is the truth. “I made my peace with his death so long ago...”

“I know, my little warrior. But your father may have been looking into something he shouldn't have been.” That steals the cadet's attention, and the blond steps closer to the demon; looking up the broadness of his chest to meet the fiend's gaze with his own full of fire.

A curiosity that burns to the brink of being uncontrollable, and all-consuming.

“What do you mean?”

“I can't say,” the demon admits with an (almost) regretful sigh. “Not yet.”

“Really?” The blond scoffs, only to be met with Bucky's silence. “Fine, but I'll be asking Tony to help me get into the military's system. He'll know how to access my father's files.” 

“I do not trust him,” Bucky says matter-of-factly. The human expected no different.

“But _I_ do. Besides, I won't tell him what I'm looking for, okay?” Steve assures him, though he sounds disheartened from his own frustration. Blue eyes wander to the side, isolating his thoughts even though the demon can still feel the unfamiliar emotions. “Although, honestly, I don't even know what I'm going to be looking for.”

Steve isn't even sure if he should allow himself to go down such a road- one that he had abandoned in a time before he was bonded with Bucky. A road that is overrun with vines so thick it makes the end impossible to see, and cracks so deep that they could open up and swallow him into the depths of the unknown. A road smothered in shadows and absent in light.

“Maybe I don't want to know. Maybe I shouldn't. You think he was researching something dangerous? Then it might be best if I leave it alone. There's no point in bringing up painful memories just because I can't stop questioning it.” The younger man sighs, dejected.

“Is that what you think?” Bucky asks, voice full of a tenderness that fills the cold ache in his chest with a spark of warmth.

Metallic fingers shifting to rest under the cadet's chin, the demon gently coerces those inviting lips up. The action forces Steve to look at him in an effort to see through any facade the cadet may put up. There are no barriers between them, the demon takes just one step to erase the empty space separating their bodies. Chests flush together, Steve can do nothing but bear himself and his honest beliefs to the creature of darkness.

“No... I want to know,” Steve whispers, allowing his lips to grace the demon's before his warm breath ghosts along faint stubble in an exhale of admittance. “Everything.”

The demon can see that the blond is ~~afraid~~ cautious as to what he may discover.

Terrified, even.

But, he should be: he's heading down a foolish path.

        

Blood.

There's so much of it.

It covers the black sand beneath him, drying and thickening with the heat of the shadows. And as Steve coughs, more of it drips into his open, shaking palms. The shackle on his left wrist has tightened, and now he can only kneel as his legs become sticky with dark dust and vibrant crimson. His arm hurts with an immense pain; the circulation non-existent and it is a surprise that his hand hasn't turned blue yet. Or perhaps, it has... but the blond just can't see it with the red that encases his fingers.

_Bucky._

Steve tries to call his demon's name, only for him to choke on warm liquid caught in his throat. Like lava burning his insides as his body shivers as if his core has become encased in ice.

Those monstrous eyes circle him from the tendrils of shadows, prickling his skin like a thousand needles nipping under its surface. Its growling the same thing over and over again, as if the creature is a snake waiting for the right moment to strike. Though it may be that the being finds pleasure in torturing the human.

_“Weayae-tez.”_

Even if it is just a dream...

Steve cries out his demon's name, jolting awake in Bucky's arms to be blinded by the morning light that has seeped into the room. The blond's erratic heart hesitates as he slowly realises that he's safe in the embrace of the dark class; for he can perceive concerned silver-flecked irises searching his form for any sign of distress.

“I'm here, Steve. I'm right here, it's okay,” Bucky coos, cradling the younger man as tender, metallic fingers tangle in soft, golden strands. The blond sniffs into the crook of the demon's neck, hands pressed against the muscular, gentle warmth of his bare chest.

It's a few minutes later that the cadet finally interrupts the demon's gentle _'shh'_ s of comfort. Though his voice sounds strangled as he talks, and Bucky can feel the wariness that emits through his tone.

“Sorry, I'm alright now... It was just a nightmare.”

“What about?” Bucky coaxes.

“It doesn't matter, I would rather talk about something else.” Steve slips from the demon's grip, who lets him go rather reluctantly. Strolling to the window, the cadet peers out at the sheet of white that covers the ground and rooftops. “It snowed over night.”

The demon grunts in reply, shifting effortlessly and meeting the smaller man at the desk. Nuzzling against the exposed side of the blond's throat, the dark class hums in contentment as Steve angles his head slightly to grant Bucky more access to the silky skin. The demon mutters against the pale blue of Steve's vein that throbs in rhythmic pulses under his lips.

“Merry Christmas, my little warrior.”

Each quick kiss against his throat chases more and more of the ~~dream~~ nightmare away, until the blond can only giggle and smile as he twists to press their lips together.

“Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

The rest of the day is so peaceful, that by the time the bonded pair and Sarah are sat together in the lounge watching the fourth film in their Christmas-themed marathon, the blond has forgotten just how frightened he had been when he had awoken that very same morning.

Simple gifts had been exchanged, and with that Steve found himself with a new pair of rather sturdy shoes and in return Sarah was given a new clip-on watch to wear at the hospital. Bucky had seemed taken aback and actually, a little unsure of what to do when Sarah had handed him a silver-wrapped box containing a shaving kit; though the blond had been highly amused by the scenario.

The white mug of hot chocolate between his palms warms his fingers as he curls into the demon's side, a rough blanket draped over their laps. Sarah sits in the armchair beside them, her own drink in hand, observing how Bucky's arm is slung around her son as if to keep him close. She can't help but smile at what she sees... when the two look at each other... she once had that same gleaming gaze when she first met Steve's father. Before the unthinkable occurred and grief soaked the memories, of things that even Steve is unaware of.

But that emotion... it can only be one thing.

But perhaps it's for the best that the bonded pair figure it out themselves.


	35. Have Your Shadows Ever Known Peace?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ thirty-four:  
> **Bucky helped Steve with his accuracy in the firing range.  
> **Bucky broke out of containment (of course) to go to Steve's house for Christmas.  
> **Bucky admitted that he may know the demon that killed Steve's father, who may have been looking into something he shouldn't have been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 35 here, yay! I've also just finished writing chapter 36 today... well... technically yesterday seen as it's one in the morning now haha  
> I'm back home from uni at the moment and I now have a week off so I'm hoping to be able to spend more time writing so I can get myself two chapters ahead of what's on here. Then updates will have shorter times between them. Everything's coming together and I'm getting excited as we draw nearer to the end of the story, and I hope you're all looking forward to seeing how it turns out. 
> 
> AND, thank you all for your support and interest in Bucky's backstory. Because of interest in it, it will be something I write, and will be uploaded upon completion of The Demon Bond.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter, it contains a LOT of important information, some more obvious than others.
> 
> Thank you!! :)

Steve shifts in the demon's embrace, pressing closer to his chest, only to turn his back to the dark class as he moves again. The room is encased in nothing but the thick shadows that twirl across their forms, like smoke hanging heavy in the air around them. The blond cannot perceive how the tendrils mask the amber hue of his own aura, but he can feel their heat dancing along his skin. Uncomfortable, the younger man fidgets in the loose hold once more, his body incapable of keeping still as if strings connect to his limbs to be controlled by some puppet master who doesn't allow its doll to rest.

“What are you doing?” The demon grumbles, though all he gets is a snappy remark in response.

“I can't sleep.”

“I think you have to be still to fall asleep.” Bucky tightens his grip on the blond's waist, pulling him closer to allow their bodies to slot together despite the human's squirming.

“Well, ain't you just full of wisdom,” Steve drawls sarcastically.

“Something wrong?” The demon asks tenderly, searching for those blue orbs with an expression of concern making its way to the creases of his own eyes.

“No, I just...” With a deep sigh, tension floods out of his body as metallic fingers trace along the vertebrae of his spine. Somewhat relaxing against the demon, the blond speaks more softly. “It's nothing, really.”

“Steve? You can tell me,” Bucky urges.

What's the point of keeping it to himself? Steve supposes that there isn't one. But... just merely contemplating speaking about it sets off that nervous spark in his stomach. He's not sure if its something Bucky can understand, though at least the blond can try and explain it to him regardless. Not saying anything is becoming akin to torture.

“I've been having these dreams.”

“The ones that wake you up?” It's a question, but not one that tries to rush a response from the smaller man that finally rests calmly in his arms.

“Yeah, it's not like I have them every night. But when I do...”

“What do you dream of?”

“Darkness.” The blond says bluntly, feeling the scene crawling back into his mind as a cool pressure slides down his spine- one that the demon's warm palm cannot dispel.

“Darkness?”

“Shadows, I guess. It's hard to explain. But, there are always these eyes watching me, I think it's a demon,” Steve confesses timidly, becoming shy without a reason. He's almost tempted to look over his shoulder, but the blond knows that in Bucky's arms, he is safe. “And the dream... I suppose its a nightmare, really... it keeps getting worse.”

“How so?” The demon frowns, and as Steve meets his gaze, he can depict the unfamiliar specks of worry in his expression. Barely visible, like the stars when one stands in the depths of a darkened forest.

“It feels so real, like a memory. Like I've experienced it myself. My arm is chained and there's blood.”

“Blood?”

“There was so much of it. I...” Steve's next words are spoken so quietly, that even the demon struggles to hear it. His voice sounds... the younger man sounds afraid. “I think it was mine.”

“I won't let anything hurt you, Steve.” Bucky's metallic fingers grace the younger man's cheek, thumb rubbing the bone as if to prevent any tears escaping the creases of his eyes. “I won't let anyone hurt you.”

“I know, Bucky. It's just a dream.” The smaller man's lashes flutter as he absorbs the demon's touch, finding comfort and security in the caress of the smooth sensors upon his skin.

 _It's just a dream._ Steve keeps telling himself that, regardless of how real they feel. _It's just a dream._ Like he's the one experiencing the pain and yet the blond cannot even begin to comprehend such a thing. _It's just a dream._ The agonising torture the cadet never wishes to go through. _It's just a dream._

“The last few times though... the demon spoke to me,” Steve confesses hesitantly. He doesn't want Bucky to worry -if such a being is capable of doing so- but perhaps the dark class will be able to provide a few answers.

“What did it say?”

“I don't know, it's not English. And I don't know if it is a term in your language so I have no idea why the demon says it.”

“What did it sound like?” Bucky coaxes softly.

“Like...Weayae... Weayae-tez.” The blond attempts to recall the foreign words, and as he tries his best to pronounce them, Steve instantly sees realisation flash in the silver of Bucky's eyes. Like seeing a ghost for the very first time- a ghost of the past.

“ _Weytz?”_

“Yeah, you know what it means?” The demon is extremely quiet in his contemplation, avoiding the blond's troubled gaze. When Steve reaches out a trembling hand intended to press against the demon's chest, the dark class turns away from the blond as he sits up. “Bucky?”

“It means _winter_ in my language.”

“Why would it be saying that? Why would _I_ even know that? At least the pronunciation, even if I didn't understand the meaning...” Steve bits his lower lip, gnawing at the soft skin in deep thought. “Maybe I heard you say it.”

“Perhaps.”

“But I don't remember you teaching me it,” the blond mutters, though the demon still hears him as easily as the song of a bird in a silent forest.

“May have been a coincidence.” The demon doesn't sound at all convincing, but still, the cadet doesn't feel as if he ~~can~~ should question it.

“Maybe...”

The pair remain quiet for several moments, the cadet choosing to watch the muscles of Bucky's back flex with the demon's every breath. The scarring that should disrupt the beauty of his skin looks as if they should be smooth to touch, like petals that have lost their colour and become paler. Steve wonders if those scars will ever fade, or perhaps Bucky's past will remain permanently marked into his skin. For just a second, the blond glimpses at the pain the demon has endured- though he does not grasp its intensity.

At some point, as Steve's eyelids begin to lazily blur his vision, Bucky gently lowers himself beside the smaller man, taking him into his arms as if unable to comprehend sleep without them being so close. The last thing the blond perceives, is the demon's murmured _'goodnight, my little warrior'_ as his body warms and finally falls into a dreamless sleep.

To dream of nothing... Steve undoubtedly prefers that to the peculiar, groundless nightmares. But the blond's weary mind is so relieved with the absence, that he doesn't register how his demon watches him throughout the night. Observing every twitch and hitching breath until the morning breaks through silver clouds to awaken the sleeping man.

With a not-quite awake grin and the promise of pliant pancakes and creamy syrup, the cadet lures the demon into the shower (though its not as if Bucky needed much convincing) to envelop their skin in the faint scent of vanilla. Strong hands running over the length of his body, it's the blond who needs coaxing to get out of the shower to join Sarah in the kitchen for breakfast. Oblivious to how the demon had listened to the music of Steve's pulsing heart as his shadows had caressed his pale skin like unseen, black armour.

“Ah, that will be Bonnie.” Sarah spins from the kettle to the patterned knocks at the front door.

Bucky can hear the two women laughing as the squeaky lock slots back into place, their voices high-pitched as they make small talk in the entry way. Steve gives the demon a stern look as if to say _'be nice'_ before he gets up from the kitchen table to greet the young woman who steps into the lounge. The unfamiliar human is barely in the room for a few minutes, and the dark class has already taken a disliking to her. The young blonde smells strongly of perfume, sweet and overbearing like being in a spring field of pollinating flowers. It makes the demon's nose itch, and his fingers curl at her next actions.

“Steve! I haven't seen you in forever,” Bonnie exclaims with a bright smile, instantly wrapping her arms around the cadet as he does the same to her.

Bonnie's hair is tied neatly back by brown metal clips to allow blonde locks to cascade down her back to between her shoulder blades. Her cheeks are round, dimpling with her pearly smile as if to compliment the light green of her eyes as she fiddles with the long fabric of her skirt. Anyone could see the innocence of her beauty, but instead, the demon is left feeling very bitter as he observes her interacting with his bonded human.

“This is James. He's training with me at the academy.” Steve gestures to the demon who slowly walks over to them, smiling politely even though he would rather pull the cadet into his arms. A bestial action that would state his claim _'he is mine'._ “James, this is Bonnie from the apartment next door.”

“Nice to meet you, James,” Bonnie says, her cheeks turning pink as she cranes her neck to look up at the demon.

“And you,” Bucky replies. He graciously offers his hand to the younger woman, who takes it a little hesitantly- though perhaps it's more shock than anything.

“I've heard a lot 'bout you from Sarah.”

Steve quietly leaves them, raising a brow to the demon as he goes to help Sarah make lunch for them all. Although it will mostly consist of leftovers from Christmas day and food that by now should be making the humans feel quite sick, and yet they are more than happy to eat them regardless. It isn't the time to feel guilty about indulging. The blond is well aware of the fact that he won't be getting such delicacies for a long time.

“So, you're Steve's boyfriend?”

The demon is startled by the blunt question, even though his expression stays impassive. Bonnie watches him with curiosity, but before Bucky can answer, Sarah interrupts and asks what the younger woman would like to drink. The dark class is unsure of whether asking to confirm the question would be appropriate or not, for he doesn't quite understand what she means. Fortunately for the demon, Bonnie disregards the question herself.

“Sorry, I guess that's none of my business. Just wanted to confirm that you're _taken?”_

Even more confused, Bucky is at a loss as to how he should respond to the human who bats her thick lashes. _Is there an appropriate string of words?_ The demon hasn't a clue as he analyses the woman from head to toe and back up again. Bonnie's body language suggests that she is attempting to make subtle, provocative advances towards the demon, though nothing about her actually attracts Bucky's arousal. Not even the curve of her hips, slim shoulders, or how the low cut of her jumper perhaps reveals a little too much skin for such a gathering.

An honest (though blunt) response to her hopes is the only answer the demon is capable of giving- regardless if Steve would probably disapprove with heated cheeks. He may not understand Bonnie's words, but Bucky can certainly get a feel of their meaning when they involve a certain small blond.

“Steve is my partner, I don't intend to ever be with anyone else but him.”

“So, a proposal is due in the future, then?” Bonnie grins, as if both entertained by the demon and inquisitive to his affairs.

“I don't-”

“Grubs up, everyone,” Sarah exclaims cheerfully from the kitchen.

Bucky is grateful for the relief as he turns his back to Bonnie without a second thought, instinctively searching for the blond's presence at the dining table. Steve is in the middle of setting out two white plates topped with food when the demon lightly slings an arm around his waist to press against the younger man's side. Glancing up at the dark class with shining blue orbs, the cadet can only playfully nudge the demon in return- but the action certainly has no intention of urging the demon away. In fact, not that Steve realises it, but he presses nonchalantly into Bucky's touch just as a cat may purr into warm, doting hands.

Throughout the rest of the afternoon, the demon listens more to the sound of snowflakes floating in gusts of wind in the air outside than to Bonnie's discussion about university with the other humans. Bucky only yearns for Steve's company, and the slender fingers on his thigh under the table -although innocent- do nothing to help the demon's desire for intimacy with the blond man.

Bonnie's aura is a unique green with a yellow mist weaving through it, like the feathers of an exotic bird. While Sarah's is a vivid turquoise, as if made of glimmering gems that radiate from her form. Yet neither of their auras seem to be as vibrant as Steve's. But, perhaps it is just that the demon is more drawn to the cadet's than anyone else's. The demon is rather biased in those terms.

It isn't until much later that Bucky's predatory, indifferent mindset is soothed into relaxation as Bonnie leaves, even if she still chats in the doorway with Sarah. A gentle touch upon the metal of his hand has Bucky's fingers entwining with the blond's. Observing the younger man getting onto the tips of his toes to press a chaste kiss to the demon's lips, a low hums emits from Bucky's throat when the cadet whispers teasingly in his ear.

“Wait for me in my room, I'll be there in a moment.”

That is not a command the demon could ever disobey.

With a final sweet kiss, the dark class heads to the shadowed hallway and into Steve's room. Peeling off his clothes one item at a time until he reaches the bed, only then to pull the covers back in one quick motion. The curtains are already neatly shut, as is the dusty window to prevent the viciously falling snow from dampening the sill.

The quiet murmurs of goodnight easily fall upon the demon's ears, and even more so the familiar echo of footsteps as they get closer. In eager anticipation, the demon waits... but the gentle thuds stop outside the bedroom door. Bucky knows that it is the blond who stands on the other side of the slab of wood, for the demon knows his distinct heartbeats like a song that one can never forget.

After a moment only filled with serenity, Bucky is almost tempted to get up and open the door himself, when the handle twists and the younger man steps through into the room warmed by the demon's shadows. Without a word, the blond shrugs out of his clothes, folding them to drop them neatly beside the desk. Grabbing clean underwear and a white t-shirt that would probably fit Bucky better than his own lanky form, Steve joins his bonded demon on the bed.

“What did ya think of Bonnie?” The smaller man asks as Bucky pulls at the duvet so that it falls elegantly over their figures, as if to frame how close they become when the demon embraces the seemingly tiny cadet.

“I don't like her,” Bucky remarks, wrapping his arms tightly around the blond's waist.

“That surprises me, I thought you would.”

“Why's that?” The demon is perplexed at to why Steve may think he would find enjoyment in such a woman's company. As far as the dark class is concerned, she isn't the blond's family, and thus her mere existence is like a fly to an ox.

“Bonnie's kind, smart too. She'll complete her university degree this year and she already has a job lined up at some big shot company once she does finish.”

The cadet seems happy for her, and Bucky is more confused than ever.

Why find joy in someone else's happiness?

Then again, he can understand that premise well when put in a context involving the younger man. Whenever Steve smiles, the demon undoubtedly feels a lukewarm fire burning through their bond to accumulate in the blue of Bucky's blood. Though that is not to say that the demon feels particularly pleasant when the cause of that glee is not his own actions.

Whenever Bucky makes Steve laugh, so much that tears threaten to escape from the corners of those blue eyes or just even... the slightest, faintest of smiles... oh, the demon feels like he's in bliss.

“That woman... she says strange things,” the dark class admits begrudgingly.

“Strange things?” Steve raises an entertained brow at the demon. Bucky groans as if remembering the conversation physically pains him. Or rather, irritates him.

“She asked me if I was _'taken'_. What does she mean by that?”

“Umm...” Nothing could have prevented the warm flush that floods through the cadet's body, much to the demon's confusion. Half-hearted listening to human conversations can only give the dark class so much information. There comes an inevitable time when Bucky fails to understand certain words and phrases.

“She also asked if I was your _boyfriend.”_

“Oh... I-I see.” Steve coughs to clear his throat without actually needing to do so. “What did you, uh, say to her?”

“I merely said that I had no intentions of being with anyone but you. I assumed she was questioning our relationship. Was I correct?” Bucky's head cocks to the side like a dog trying to figure out its master's command.

“Yeah.” The blond blushes, earning a devilish smirk from the demon.

“What would she have meant by a proposal?”

“What?” Steve couldn't have possibly been caught any more off-guard- akin to a deer frozen in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

“She said that a proposal should happen in the future.”

“I don't know, I wasn't exactly there for the conversation.” Shifting in the Bucky's arms, the blond turns his back to the demon, only to hear a low chuckle as he settles.

“You do know. I know you do.” The dark class watches the shell of Steve's ear turn pink amongst golden curls, the hue so beautiful, that Bucky finds himself instinctively pressing a kiss to the heated skin.

“You know I know, hey?” A giggle erupts from the blond, the demon's breath tickling his skin. The action is oddly comforting, and in turn, Bucky finds solace in the music of the younger man's laughter.

“Mmm, _Steve,”_ the demon murmurs, voice dripping with his contentment. With a tired, drawn out sigh, the shining moon and glistening stars seem to finally have an effect on the smaller man's form. As if his body longs for sleep, just as it yearns for Bucky's embrace.

“Bonnie was probably just teasin' you.” The blond would be a fool to believe that. Yet still, he is only expanding the ache in his heart by refusing to allow himself to be caught up in Bonnie's words. Perhaps if he gave them more thought, it would shed light on his feelings for the demon. Like a flame from a candle illuminating cursive ink upon a sheet of pale paper.“We need to actually go to sleep now, we gotta be up early in the morning to go back to the academy.”

“Okay, my little warrior. Goodnight.” With a final grace of lips upon the silky nape of Steve's neck, the demon buries his nose into intoxicating curls as his arms wrap more securely around the human.

“Night, Bucky.”

Steve feels as if he should say something else, perhaps just a few more words. But neither utter a single sentence as dreams take over.

        

“O-kay, I'm in the system right now.”

Tony relaxes into the back of his chair, one hand on the shiny, blue-lit keyboard in front of him. Although there's nothing particularly stylish about the tech, quite the opposite is true for the three sleek computer screens spread out at eye level above it; taking up so much space, that two of them hang partially over the desk. The blond finds himself wondering how Tony managed to get Fury to approve the technology- though the smaller man thinks it's unlikely that Tony even asked in the first place.

“That was quick. Almost like you've hacked into the military's system before,” Steve jests, hip pressing against the metallic edge of the desk as he watches one of the computer screens flicker with text.

“Only once or twice.” Tony grins, clicking thin buttons a few more times as he navigates his way through the system.

It's New Years eve, with only minutes left to go until midnight and the explosion of fireworks suffocate the city sky in the distance. Many (if not all) of the cadets are up on the rooftops braving the sharp wind, only being warmed by the alcohol swimming through their veins. Bonded demons are locked up in the dorms, shut away and isolated while their counter parts find joy in an occasion that has very little meaning to the fiends. Except... Tony and Steve's demons stand silently against the wall of the taller cadet's room.

“So, whose files am I looking for exactly?” Tony glances up at the blond with a curiosity embedded with the beginnings of worry.

“Joseph Rogers.”

“Anything specifically?”

“Just everything you can get,” the blond answers simply to his friend's coaxing.

The dark-haired cadet nods his head slightly in understanding, not wanting to pry or intrude on a situation that really isn't any of his concern. Tony's fingers tap away at the buttons of the keyboard with as much accuracy to suggest that he spends a majority of his time sorting through complex networks. His hands are steady, adapted to fixing minuscule pieces of technology together.

“You want me to transfer the data into a chip for you to go through later, then?”

“Yeah, thanks. If its not too much trouble.” Steve smiles at the offer.

“Course not, anything for you.” Tony inserts a small, silver card into the bottom of the middle screen, causing a luminous bar to appear in its centre as numerous files are stored into the chip from the military's online database. “Although, I do have to ask...”

“Hm?”

“Why the sudden interest in your father's work in the military?” The taller cadet is gentle in his questioning, unsure of whether he will receive a truthful answer, or even one at all. The two cadets are more similar in nature and experience than they are aware of.

There's a bang and fizz of coloured sparks outside the walls of the academy, and the pair instantly know that it's the beginning of a new year. If the fireworks weren't a giveaway, the loud cheering coming from the cold roof sure is. However, the atmosphere of the small room ceases to change.

“I just... guess it was time that I found out more about him, you know?” Steve lies, though its as honest as he can be with the other cadet. Bucky had asked him not to unveil the real reason, and the blond will stay true to that promise.

“I hear you, I get what that feels like.”

Tony's demon shifts uncomfortably next to the dark class, almost as if in response to her human's wave of sadness that echoes through the length of their bond.

“It's tough, being in the unknown,” the blond admits quietly.

“And living up to expectations.”

Tony must feel such a burden heavily; like a mountain weighing down the earth. Crushing and moulding it to its own will. There's no escaping it, nor breaking through its society-toughened layer... you can only surpass expectations. But that is one long, tiring path full of obstacles that take their toll on the body, and mind.

“Done,” the taller cadet suddenly exclaims, drawing the blond out of his thoughts. Tony dislodges the chip and hands it to Steve between two fingers. “Here you go, just put that into your laptop whenever you want to go over the data. It won't stay in your laptop's memory that way. Best to play it safe when dealing with something you shouldn't have.”

“Thank you, Tony. I really appreciate this.”

“Don't mention it.” With a wave of his hand and a slight smirk, the cadet dismisses the blond's thanks. “I'll see you in a while for some jogging with a lot of hung-over teammates.”

“Hah, yeah. Goodnight, Tony.” Steve laughs, giving Bucky a quick glance to beckon him closer as they leave the other cadet's room.

The blond barely realises that he's practically sprinting down the corridor to his room with an eagerness akin to a puppy. Though there is a distinct, unsettling sensation in the pit of his stomach that makes him almost not want to open his door. Steve is well aware of the fact that everything about his father has been put inside a card that could easily slip through his fingers. And yet it contains information beyond anything the blond could predict.

Bucky kicks off his shoes to the side, stripping off his shirt as he climbs onto the bed. Back pressed firmly against the thin wall, the demon folds his legs while the human flips the lid of his laptop, chip inserted. While the technology whirrs to life, Steve fiddles with his laces until he can discard his boots alongside the demon's. The blond neatly folds his jacket across the seat of his desk chair before taking the laptop in hand. It's not even a minute later that Steve's slim hips are swaying as he joins the dark class on the mattress, planting himself in the demon's lap while his laptop balances atop his own bent knees.

“Are you okay, my little warrior? Your heart rate is rather fast.” Bucky declares, hands sliding around the blond's waist to rest upon his stomach.

“I don't know what to expect,” the cadet admits hopelessly, the beginning of his frustration obvious like the scent of something burning. “What _are_ we supposed to be looking for?”

“The demon that killed your father.”

“That's not helpful, Bucky,” he snaps in response to the blunt reply. The demon has no delicacy in rather sensitive matters, and that becomes only more pronounced in situations involving the dead. It just isn't a circumstance Bucky has been taught to deal with- and it certainly isn't one he truly understands.

The dark class can feel the drumming of their bond, the thuds vibrating from the younger man in nervous waves. He may not have words of comfort for grief, but the demon knows how to sooth the agitation Steve feels in his chest. Bucky nuzzles affectionately against the blond's throat until the smaller man finally has that sensation of utter calmness sink into his flesh, causing his shoulders to lose the tight tension embedded deep within.

“Search for anything relating to your father's death,” the demon instructs him, though his tone is far from commanding. The blond shifts ever so slightly as he inhales the warmth around around him, holding that breath for just a second before he lets it loose with his words.

“So... look at the most recent files, then?”

“Mhm.”

Steve scrolls through the different files, taking account of their dates until... There it is. The day of his father's death in tiny, clear font at the end of a document labelled: **_death report._**

Two simple words like they don't make the blond's lungs feel like they are being crushed. So easily typed like they don't make his chest feel like its burning. Nonchalant, like they don't make his spine feel like an icicle is sliding down it.

Steve hesitates.

 _Of course_ he hesitates.

It would be foolish of him to not be affected in such a way that he has to take a moment to collect himself before finding out the gory details of his father's death. The man he had looked up to, and in a way, still does. The blond needs to calm his nerves, and fight against the urge to slam the laptop shut.

_Are his hands shaking?_

They must be, for the demon suddenly entwines their fingers to still the twitching muscles.

“Take a breath, Steve,” the dark class says soothingly into his ear. The demon's voice is like liquid seeping into the younger man's form, caressing the ache of a pain that isn't truly there.

With one deep breath sinking into the depths of his lungs, the blond lets it go with a slowly-exhaled sigh. Then, and only when he needs to take another breath, does he click on the file and dark text instantly appears on the screen before them.

 

**Joseph Rogers**

**DOD (Date Of Death): 23/05/2462***

**Circumstance: KIA (killed in action- mission #5475).**

_***Family notified.** _

 

**Team: _Empire_ (Origin- New York Military Academy) _._**

_**Empire** _ **Status: all members deceased (KIA- mission #5475).**

 

Steve had already known that his father had been killed during a mission, but he had never imagined that his entire team had been wiped out at the very same scene. That fact is... unsettling to say the least. It makes all sorts of worrisome thoughts crawl throughout his brain- making him question the future success of his own team. There are hundreds of soldier deaths a year (and sometimes, that number goes into the thousands) and there is no nullifying how real that is. However, understanding that whole teams who have trained for years can be easily killed like flies in a cloud of poison... it does cause the blond to wonder just how long his team will actually survive.

 

**Latest Mission: #5475**

**Mission Details: signs of a Dark Class demon reported in** _ **Chihuahuan Desert.**_ **Team** _ **Empire**_ **and** _ **Zola**_ **sent to investigate. Engagement with possible enemy discouraged. Instructed to make contact with the base upon potential demon sightings.**

**Mission Status: _Unsuccessful._**

**Mission Report: all soldiers dead on scene. Forensics indicate a high level Dark Class or Death Class demon responsible for all deaths (including those of bonded demons).**

 

The blond is... shocked? No, more like _disturbed_ by what he reads. He's unsure of how he is supposed to feel knowing that either a dark, or death class demon is responsible for his father's life being taken. Which is worse? Perhaps the problem is the knowledge that Bucky may know the demon.

“Did you-” Steve can't even get the query out before his demon interrupts the blond's predictable words.

“I cannot tell without more information,” Bucky explains softly into the younger man's ear, scanning the luminous screen with critical eyes. “Keep reading.”

 

**Pathologist Analysis***

**BAC (Blood Alcohol Content): 0.060**

**Notes: _both arms detached from body, black sand in the lungs._**

**Conclusion: _intoxication causing short-term mental impairment._**

**COD (Cause Of Death): _demon._**

_***Performed due to irregularities in the field.** _

 

 _He he been...drinking? Is that why he didn't request help? Did he not see the demon?_ Steve frowns, only for the faintest sickly sensation to churn in his stomach at the detailing of the notes. The cadet hadn't expected his father's death to be so _violent._ So animalistic and bloodthirsty, and Steve can't help but picture a pool of ruby liquid surrounding his father's body as it lay on the desert ground. But then, the blond only becomes more confused as more words capture his curiosity.

 

**Details of Private Investigation**

**Issued by:** _**Nicholas Joseph Fury .** _

**Partner:** _**Agent P. Coulson.** _

**Details:** _**investigation of a known Dark Class Demon, Trickster Type.** _

**Image:** _**(see attached file).** _

**Latest information: sighting in _Chihuahuan Desert._ No reports since 23/05/2462.**

**Status: _investigation yet to be reallocated and continued._**

 

A small gasp escapes the cadet's lips as he realises that his father had been tracking the very same demon that had ~~killed~~ murdered him.


	36. Truth Can Only Be Found In The Darkest Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ thirty-five:  
> **Steve confessed his nightmares to Bucky.  
> **Tony helped Steve access his father's files, where Steve realised his father had been tracking the very same demon that was responsible for his death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter thirty-six here! And I'm currently half-way through writing chapter 38 and so I'm hoping to get that one finished soon. My writing plan got a little delayed as I fell ill for about five days so that made me struggle with writing. Nonetheless, I am still trying to keep updates to less than 14 days.
> 
> Also, a reader mentioned that this update was going to occur on their birthday, so I would like to just say a very Happy Birthday to you!! (I haven't put your username in case that's embarrassing for you.)
> 
> Okay, I hope you all enjoy reading, and that you all have a wonderful day! :)
> 
> Note: as usual, if you find any mistakes in the chapter please comment below. Some people are playing music extremely loudly in the apartment below me again, so it's difficult to concentrate and I'm sure I've probably missed a few errors.  
> That's all, thank you for your support!!

Steve chooses the image file, bringing up a blurry photograph of what appears to be a mass of humanoid shadows with very long, inhuman horns. There's a slight silver fleck in the centre, but other than that, Steve can't even figure out where the photo must have been taken. Although the dim background suggests a city.

“It's them,” Bucky says suddenly.

“The demon you thought it was?”

“Yes, they are a dark class demon.”

“Like you.” The blond's words are void of any emotion, akin to a windless breeze, as if his mind is still contemplating what exactly he should be feeling about the situation.

“In that way, I suppose so.” Eyes darkening, Bucky doesn't voice his offence at being compared to another demon. He sees it as an insult, though he knows that the younger man doesn't mean it that way. It's just a fact, and it's not the human's fault that Bucky despises his own kind. “I believe your father was investigating them.”

“You knew that from the photograph?” Steve frowns, confusion swirling with each beat of his heart.

“I guessed as such. There was no other explanation.”

“Explanation for what?” The blond leans back to rest his head on the demon's shoulder, using the angle to look up into the eyes that have seen so much, and tell so little.

“The symbol on his journal,” Bucky explains softly, though it only raises more questions from the smaller man in his arms.

“The silver star? What about it?”

“The dark class, he has that symbol marked upon him.”

Glancing at the image still displayed on the glaring screen, that silver blur could almost depict a five pointed, glistening shape. But then, that raises the question of _'what does it mean?'._ For the mark to be engraved onto the demon's skin, and for his father to become so obsessed with it... it must have some great meaning. But whether Steve's father understood its meaning or not will remain forever unclear.

“What for?”

“As a sign of following the Kyosw,” the demon admits reluctantly, even if he wishes to indulge the blond in everything he desire to know.

Steve feels as if he's been thrown into the center of a horrific blizzard. But it's as if the snow is radiating from inside himself; icicles running down between the vertebrae of his spine and freezing the air of his lungs. Body turning cold as his voice becomes desperate and _pained._

“It means that they obey that death class? The one that wants _me_ dead? That wants _us_ dead?” Shutting the laptop with perhaps too much force, the cadet stretches to place it on the edge of the desk, pulling the card from the port and leaving it next to his watch.

“Yes.” Bucky watches the blond's graceful, and yet ever-so-shaky movements, like a young deer still learning to walk. When blue eyes turn to him, the demon detests the worry he sees within them. He wants nothing more than to eradicate the dawning of that fear.

“How can that be, the water class and _Thor_ didn't have that mark on them.” Kneeling next to his demon, the mattress dips under their weight as shadows unfold in the tight corners of the room. Like an invisible protective film layering the inner walls to obscure hushed voices and a glowing amber aura.

“They had hidden it as I conceal my own.” The confession doesn't go unscrutinised by the blond.

“And what about you? The same mark is on your arm. That's not a coincidence, is it?” The blond retorts, wary. It's not that Steve is suspicious of Bucky... he doesn't believe that his demon's intentions will ever put him in danger- he knows what Bucky feels for him. Their emotions are the very much the same in that respect.

However, Bucky's past is like a cloud of thick smoke. One can neither see through it, nor touch it without it slipping through one's fingers.

“The colour of my mark means something different. I do not follow the orders of any demon,” the dark class answers simply. As if he's rehearsed that same line again and again, over and over until it rolls off the tongue as easily as the blond's name. But he says it with contempt. With an anger Steve cannot pinpoint the reason for.

“Are you telling me the truth?”

It's hard to erase the invading thought that perhaps the demon is hiding something important from the human. Something about his past that has sculpted the demon into who he is today.

“Yes. I would never lie to you.”

“How can I know that what you just said wasn't a lie?”Those blue eyes _beg_ the demon, and Bucky is all too _weak_ to them.

“You just have to trust me, or...” The demon trails off, but the cadet urges him on with expression of vulnerability.

“Or?”

“Look at me.” Bucky takes his hand, placing it just above where his heart beats in his chest. Steve gasps at the warm touch the bare skin provides, their bond vibrating in heavy pulses that only grow with the sensations that flow between them.

The human can _feel_ it. That Bucky would never lie to him. That the demon would never betray him.

Steve trusts Bucky, and nothing could ever change that.

“What now? What if the death class sends this demon after us next?” Fingers curling against the demon's chest, the blond shuffles to sit in front of the dark class before planting his hands atop Bucky's shoulders.

“It is a possibility.” Caressing the pale skin of Steve's arms, a deep hum emits from the demon. As if he's losing himself in the heady scent that permeates the stale air around them. Bucky never wants to be in a position where he can't feel soft skin under metallic fingers, and where he's not crowded in a sweet aroma. He yearns for serene laughter and inviting blue orbs, plump lips and a stubbornness he finds difficult to match. “But I won't allow him to harm you, Steve.”

“I don't want you to get hurt,” the blond affirms quietly.

“That's not something you should worry about, my little warrior. I am more powerful than the dark class.” The demon's proud smirk brings the tiniest of smiles to the younger man's lips as they lean ever so closer together.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, and I don't think the _Kyosw_ would send that demon while we are here.”

Although Steve should feel relief from the demon's comforting words, a new fear slithers into his core. The younger man can do nothing but plead for answers, for he is terrified of the future, and yet he hardly knows what it is that he should truly be afraid of.

“And what about when we go on field missions? What about in the future when we leave this academy? What about my _mother?_ What if the dark class sends a demon after her?”

Bucky gently takes the blond's face between his palms, delicately wiping away the beginnings of salty tears before they can stain soft, porcelain skin. The demon's touch is calming, the warmth that radiates from his fingertips soothing the trembles of anxiety within the younger man's core.

“The dark class dislikes this realm, and rarely does he choose to enter this world of yours. Just like the Kyosw remains in my own realm. But regardless of what happens, I will protect you, and I will not allow any harm to come to your mother either.”

“I don't feel like this is a fight we can escape, Bucky.” Eyes closed, Steve rests his cheek into the metallic plates of the demon's palm, pressing a small kiss to its surface.

“No, but we can survive it.”

        

“There won't be anything higher than level thirty demons here. But, each team must take precautions. We've seen unusual demon activity across the world, and it's only becoming more frequent, so don't turn your backs.” Fury warns them, surveying the two groups of fourth year cadets (consisting of the _Avengers,_ and _Hydra_ ), and the three teams of graduated soldiers standing in neat rows in front of him. Their demons are obediently behind their bonded humans, seemingly bored, though some fidget in agitation.

The army's vehicles are parked side-by-side on the outskirts of a small abandoned city, several hours drive from the New York Military Academy. The buildings are tall and grey, many of them mirrored and full of grime, and Steve can barely make out the rooftops. The city is void of humanity, and practically in the middle of no where surrounded only by a stretch of grassy fields and tarmac roads that lead to civilisation.

“For the fourth years, this will be their first true mission. Keep on eye on them, but don't expect them to do all the work for you. Likewise, cadets, don't think you can just sit back and not work up a sweat.”

The city could be referred to as a demon 'hotspot', for there has been a significant amount of demonic activity reported by computers in recent weeks. A complete evacuation of the city due to an attack by two high level demons (one fire, and one wind class) had left the buildings silent and burnt, with rubble ruining the city centre. However, without the powerful demons present, the unguarded remains had quickly become home to low level demons. To retake the city and begin repairs, the prowling demons must be eradicated. Although, technically, if left long enough they would surely squabble and kill for dominance and territory, the military can't allow the demons to live uninterrupted.

“Once the area is clear, report back to me. I'll be running signal waves every fifteen minutes to isolate the location of any demons further in the city, and I'll relay the coordinates to all of you. If any of you find yourself in a situation you can't handle, get out of there. I don't want to bury any more of your bodies.” Fury demands, the seriousness of his tone resonating over the form of adrenaline-pumped soldiers. Like a pack of wild dog getting ready for a hunt. “Dismissed. Go kill some demons.”

“ _Avengers?”_ A woman calls out to them from the crowd, her wavy, dark brown hair not quite reaching her shoulders, but turning lighter at the ends. “Follow us, _Hydra_ will go with one of the other groups. We're going to cut straight-through the city.”

The _Avengers_ glance at Steve hesitantly until he gives a firm nod of approval, then they begin the eerie trek past long forgotten cars and deserted shops. Although wearing a uniform similar to that of the academy's demons, the golden strips that run down the seams at the sides of the woman's uniform makes the material more unique to the human and her team-mates.

“Our team name is _Agents,_ though there's a few more of us who aren't here today,” she explains, observing the cadets with big, brown eyes framed by dark lashes. They look almost as if they have seen too much, and yet there is a distinct fire blazing within them. A flame that surely cannot ever be extinguished. Regardless of what she may have experienced, and what she will inevitably endure. “I'm Skye, you're Rogers. If I'm not mistaken.”

“Uh, yeah. How did you...” _know my name?_ Steve feels strangely _exposed_ by the idea that people who he has never met know him by such a detail he thought was private. At least to some extent, surely.

“People talk. Especially when a first year gets themselves a dark class demon.” The soldier is no taller than the blond, and she has to look up over her shoulder to perceive Steve's demon with firmly set, pale lips. “Our commander mentioned your team had been assigned to this mission.”

“You're not under Fury's command?” Bruce questions, perhaps in an attempt to distract himself from the buildings which loom over them like walls meant to cage them.

“Used to be. Not any more. He transferred us to Coulson some years back, and we've stayed like that since.” A man interrupts gruffly, the name _Ward_ embedded onto the left pectoral of his jacket. He's tall -far taller than Steve- with dark stubble drawing attention away from the sudden sharpness of his cheek bones.

Steve isn't sure that he heard the man correctly, but he doesn't have the chance to confirm that he was indeed talking about his father's partner before another unfamiliar man speaks up. His words make adrenaline pour into every fibre of the blond's being, as if his body can't quite prepare itself quick enough to keep up with the excitement of his mind.

“We got a demon fifty metres ahead.” The dark skinned man has _Mackenzie_ written onto his own uniform, and in his hands he grips a sleek electronic tablet that lets out a series of low sounds that grow in pitch as they travel further into the city.

“Where are your demons?” Clint asks, perhaps a little skeptical of the seven other soldiers. Steve can't blame him for that: they haven't seen what _Agents_ are capable of, and for all they know, the two teams could be rather incompatible when working together. But, as the blond takes his time to observe them, eager for the fight ahead, he sees that they are just as wilful and critical in their tactics as the _Avengers._

“We left them contained back in the trucks. We've been bonded with them for eight years, and Coulson has been training us to be able to manifest our weapons when we're not with them.” _Simmons_ (at least the blond thinks that's what the name reads) explains, her light brown hair tied together at the back to dip between her shoulder blades. “Energy can still travel through the bond at greater distances. It's more effective that way, and there's less chance of our demons becoming a liability.”

Those words... it would be a lie to say that they don't bother Steve. If anything, he sees his demon as being anything but a liability. Bucky is as much a part of him in battle as the shield and knife he can manifest, and in no circumstances can he imagine Bucky turning on him or getting in the way. In fact, Steve stubbornly believes that the dark class has his back- that Bucky will protect him as much as (though probably more than) the black shield.

“Lance, go with Leo and Bobbi round the side of the building to the back entrance. We'll take the front,” Skye commands, gesturing to a small, two-storey grey building that would have once been a clothes shop. But now, the windows are covered in a layer of green and yellow moss that integrates along the dark vines that run across the building's walls.

The soldiers give a curt nod before sneaking through the adjoined alleyway. Steve gives a long glance between Rhodey, Wanda and Tony in a silent order for them to follow the others, which they do without so much as questioning the blond. As soon as they vanish into the shadows around the corner, the remaining _Agents_ and _Avengers_ approach the entrance. The double-sliding doors would have once opened upon sensing the soldiers, but instead, not a single squeaky sign of life makes itself apparent. Intricate curls of vines have entwined around the mechanics to permanently wedge the two slots of glass together.

Skye retrieves a black, pen-like device from her belt, holding one end to the glass of one of the doors, she clicks a button on its side. Although the humans don't hear anything, the bonded demons begin to hear a low humming emit from the tech. That buzzing gets louder and more clear like when one comes up for air after being submerged in water. Steve looks up curiously at the dark class who shifts once beside him; just as uncomfortable with the noise as the other, far younger demons. Bucky's expression instantly changes to a blank slate as soon as he realises the blond is watching him, far from wanting to admit that the sound is like some persistent siren ringing in their ears.

Fortunately, the peculiar noise comes to a halt, and as it does so the glass shatters into thousands of tiny diamond-like pieces. Catching the daylight and glimmering in the air before collapsing to the cold ground lined by mud and broken pieces of roads. Skye puts a finger to her lips as an indication to be quiet. Although the demon inside may be able to perceive their presence, it is more likely that their auras and scents become masked by that of the _Avengers'_ bonded demons. With the element of surprise, Steve can only hope that Bucky's overpowering existence doesn't affect the demon's movements.

However, even if the demon decides to try to escape, it is effectively surrounded, and there's surely no chance of it slipping through their fingers. One by one, they step into the store, numerous racks of clothes are moulded and distorted across the room and along the stretch of stairs onto the second floor. The few painted metallic posts that would have been used to hold the building up, almost look as if they are rotting and cracking in place. Steve instantly gets a bad feeling rising in the bottom of his stomach, especially as he sees the worried looked Sam throws him. As they analyse the building, words flash into Steve's vision.

_Moss... vines...mould..._

Earth Class.

_No trees... no boulders...low density of organic surroundings..._

Level twenty.

_No sweet scent...no immediate attack..._

Possible Trickster Type.

As they scan the layout before them in search of demon life, Steve takes careful notice of just how quiet the building is. It's almost peaceful. Serene, even. Considering that, the blond feels the slightest bit guilty: the demon has built itself a home, a place of respite for the fiend... And now, the creature will soon meet its end. Just for merely existing in a place humans have claimed for themselves.

Nail-sized, luminescent beetles crawl up the spiral stairwell onto the flooring above that looks down upon the ground level. Its layout allows the soldiers to glimpse at any movement above them between the damp shelves that once displayed shoes and probably far-too-expensive hats and jewellery. The glass and metal barriers blocking one from falling off the edge of the platform, are now mostly shards and bent poles.

Although Steve can't quite see the very back of the store, he can just about observe the other _Agents_ and the rest of his team ducking behind racks in search of the rogue demon. However, even if the blond can see the flashes of black and camouflage in the near distance, he isn't actually certain on what his stare should be critical of.

Will the demon have a human form? It's unlikely if the demon is of a rather low level.

So, what form will it take? Has it embraced its surroundings, becoming one with the moss?Or has the fiend taken on a more lively form? For all they know, the demon could be one of the beetles with the green wings that almost seem blue when they flutter.

Steve has to repress a gasp when Bucky briefly grabs his wrist, those strong fingers tightening around delicate bones with a tenderness like nothing else. Surprised, the smaller man looks up at his demon, only to follow the gaze of those silver-flecked eyes as they trail up the staircase. With just the smallest, faintest of nods, Steve waves his right hand once in the air beside him, motioning to Sam who relays the signal, catching the attention of the _Agents._

With an unspoken understanding, they head towards the stairs, taking care not to slip on any of the rotten, crumpled clothing that shifts with the movement of their feet. Black mist swirls around Steve's arm as he manifests the shield, keeping it close to his side as the others create their own weapons. But before they can take more than a few, carefully placed steps, a thundering roar rattles the building as a pair of vibrant, angry green eyes appear from the darkness of the second floor.

The demon crashes through what's left of the barrier, tumbling to the ground and forcing Steve to raise his shield to protect his eyes from the debris that surges through the air as if by a gust of wind. Peering over the edge of the black weapon to gawk at the stocky, scarred form, the blond is taken aback by what he sees. The earth class has taken on the form of a huge, brown bear. Its paws stomp in a show of agitation, causing cracks to erupt around its long claws as they to easily scrap the surface of the store's floor. Drawn-out guttural notes leave the demon's mouth as it bares its yellowing teeth to the soldiers, though its eyes focus on none other than the dark class.

Rising onto its back legs, the demon easily reaches over eight feet in height as it bellows, displaying the thick fur of its chest that is stained in several places with a pink hue. Steve can only assume that the demon has been in a fight with another, and recently, if the wetness of the blood is anything to go by. The fiend may even have thought to the death, though the wounds on its flank suggest that it has also been in a battle it escaped. Throwing its head up and down, its roars echo continuously, almost deafening and perhaps just the tiniest bit overwhelming.

But, it is definitely a challenge.

A challenge directed at the dark class demon who stands idly by. Merely watching the other fiend with disinterest like a predator being provoked by prey. Bucky knows that the earth class won't even get the chance at an attempt to hurt either of the bonded pair, for within seconds, the more experienced soldiers tackle the fiend with weapons far superior to the little power the lone demon possesses. Its greasy coat becomes slashed before an axe embeds into its shoulder, breaking the bone there with a dull crack. The demon lets out a call of rage, turning to the offending soldier, only to then be attacked as soon as its back faces the remaining _Agents_.

Within minutes, the demon is crumbling under the onslaught, its resistance weakening until its legs shake. When they finally give out, the demon falls to the ground with a thud that lifts dust into the air. Its gem-like eyes become a dull, mossy green as it takes its final breath, before at last shifting to become a round creature that looks as if it is made out of numerous small rocks covered in rotting vines and fuzzy moss.

The _Avengers_ stand back, having been surprised by both the form and suddenness of the demon's appearance. But that had allowed them to experience true soldiers at work; how they attack together in rapid movements to destroy a creature that could have otherwise killed them. However, although the demon had showed aggressive defence -as one might expect from a territorial animal- Steve takes note of how it had been so brutally executed.

Was the demon really _that much_ of a threat?

The blond isn't sure, and if he were to consider Tony's expression, he would realise that he's not the only one questioning the military's tactics when dealing with such creatures. It seems almost... _excessive?_ As if perhaps, fear has clouded human perceptions until they can no longer see demons as anything less than a monstrous threat. Beings to merely be used for humanity's benefit, or destroyed.

The bonded demons show no remorse for the deceased creature as they concentrate on the movement of their own human soldiers. They follow the slight gestures that command them to trail over to them as the soldiers regroup.

“That was one angry mutt,” Ward remarks.

“Haven't seen a demon confront us like that in a long time. Especially not one of such a low level.” Mackenzie taps at the electronic tablet within his grasp, notifying the military's system of the demon they had just taken down.

Once the city is clear, scientists will sweep the area to collect the limp bodies of the demons who fought for their lives, and lost.

A high-pitch _beep_ of his watch catches the blond's attention as the shield turns into a mass of black smoke that slowly fades into nothing but the pulsating bond between his chest and Bucky's. Like a string of fate connecting them, Steve knows that nothing could possibly change the feelings he has for Bucky. Even if he is yet to realise just how intense and deep-rooted those emotions are. Their future, however, may be undetermined (as far as the cadet is concerned) but the blond hopes that Bucky will remain on this path with him. A path that may perhaps darken the future more than either of them can imagine.

Steve frowns as his eyes gloss over the blue screen of his watch, until he discerns the flickering white light at the edge to be the location of demon.

“Let's move on, Fury has given us the coordinates of another one in our area,” Skye instructs them, already stepping over fallen racks as she heads towards the exit where the sunlight embraces the cold floor. She has an essence of...someone void of darkness, someone with a light inside of them. Skye seems so carefree, but almost certainly serious in her job. Steve wonders how much she has to see until her attitude changes.

It's only a moment until the soldiers are back patrolling the streets in search of the nearby demon, possibly one who had heard all of the previous commotion. Skye leads the team down the cracking road littered with abandoned cars, some with their doors wide open while other vehicles have taken a beating with scratched paint and oversized dents in their sides.

It's not much further up the cement pathway that critical gazes fall upon the fluttering, grey wings of a demon haunched over the roof of a blue car. With four extra feathered limbs, the creature otherwise takes on a skinny humanoid form. With long, ruffled silver hair reaching her waist, the demon watches them with white eyes. Two long, spiralled horns stretch out of her skull, skin soft and pale as if she's seen a ghost. Surprisingly, she is extraordinarily beautiful, though there is that distinct in-humanness about her.

Though Steve knows that the demon must be above level twenty-five if she is able to take on a human form, the cadet can decipher little else. She cocks her head to the side with interest as the soldiers ever-so-slowly approach her. But the demon's power becomes obvious as a frozen gust of air washes over them, lifting a nearby van from the black road so that it hovers in the air. It's as if she's choosing her target, or, merely giving a warning before it suddenly hurtles towards them.

_Wind Class._

Gasps and snapped angered words can be heard as they quickly duck out of the way, though even before Steve can fully react, there are strong arms around his waist. Bucky pulls him to the side as fast as lightning before the vehicle slams into where he and Skye had stood just seconds before. With just a blink, Steve finds himself being pressed against the curved bonnet of a car. The metal is icy cold compared to the warmth that radiates from the dark class to flood over the blond's form. There's a brief, silent moment where blue and silver-flecked eyes meet and for just those few seconds, the rest of the world comes to a standstill.

Unfortunately, that blissful moment can't last for long, and soon Steve is slipping past his own demon to face the other that turns her head from side to side as if picking up on intermittent noises. Those silver wings spread out by her sides before swooping down to allow the fiend to turn on her heels, scuttling like some animal across the tops of the cars. That is, until enough force gathers under her to allow the demon to glide into one of the broken, higher-up windows of a tall office building.

However, the soldiers aren't far behind the demon, their bodies automatically chasing after her into the damp structure. With the building having numerous stairwells the fiend could use to their advantage, the humans choose to split up to search each individual floor. The thick walls disrupt any signals of the demon they could get, forcing the humans to blindly pursue the creature.

The blond seeks out the fifth floor with Sam, Wanda and their bonded demons (as well as his own) only for them to be met by a flowery scent. The odour gets stronger the further into the swarm of desks they get; more concentrated without the air outside to dull its sweetness. Sam's demon twitches in response to the seducer's chemicals, but otherwise shows no sign of being affected, while Wanda's doesn't seem bothered at all. Her bonded demon and the rogue one share both their class and type, though being of a significantly higher level than the fiend they are hunting, Wanda's demon is not at all affected by the scent. If their demons were less powerful than they are now -if they were still as they were when they first came through the gateway- it might be a rather different story.

Fortunately, all three of the bonded demons are of high enough levels to not be overwhelmed by sweetness and temptation- they are far from being in danger of becoming lured away from the soldiers. But, it is quite the opposite for the humans: the scent makes them just the slightest bit dizzy, as one might be when having a particularly bad headache. The dark class keeps his gaze on the blond, thick fingers gracing the silky blue of his inner wrist. That heat transfers from the demon's fingertips into the younger man's skin, pooling and then overflowing to travel along his arm into his bloodstream. In a mere few seconds, the beginnings of a clouded mind become clear once more, as if a delicate mist has been swept away by a familiar warmth.

Manifesting the shield, Steve keeps his arm up in defence as his eyes dart across the room. But not even his analytical gaze could have perceived the sudden movement in the far reaches of deserted desks. One of the metallic tables has been lifted into the air, only to be propelled towards them with as much speed as a fast moving car. However, the accuracy of the throw is off, and the desk misses them just enough to soar past them and through one of the windows, smashing it into pieces as it falls to the ground. The three soldiers instantly split up with their demons with just a slight gesture of Steve's hand, with Wanda and Sam on either side of the blond as he heads down the centre.

The rogue demon jumps out from the shadows onto one of the desks, her wings fluttering like pieces of silver on the tips of snow-absent mountains. Her hair glistens like metal, and her eyes... they bore into the soldiers like how a mother's angered gaze does so to her child. With a garbled, muttered breath, Steve is almost convinced that she had hissed something _demonic,_ and yet she says nothing to them like a rabid animal _._ Bearing her teeth in disgust as her fingernails dig into the surface of the desk, scratching it and moulding it to her harsh touch, she watches them with an intense curiosity.

Her posture changes just enough for the cadet to notice the deepened, hunched shoulders like a lion biding its time until it will surely pounce on its prey. The demon stares firmly at the blond, her sight blurred by a mist of darkness unseen by the humans that masks Steve's amber aura, even if stubborn orange swirls still seep through. With a final snarl, the demon leans her weight down, just as a knife manifests in the blond's clenching grip.

Lunging with the force of a creature far greater than her size, she surges towards Steve who braces himself, pulling back his arm only to push and release the black knife made from his demon's shadows. With a glint from the sun, the knife slices through the air. But the rogue demon's wings are just as quick, and she jolts to the side in an instant like a bat in mid-flight.

It all happens within just a few seconds. Sparks crackle from the knife, twisting the weapon in the air until it spins back on itself, its sharp end becoming embedded into the demon's spine. Right between the vertebrae until they snap and white-eyes widen in pain that lasts just a moment until white glosses over into grey. The demon collapses and slides a metre across the dusty floor at Steve's feet; wings limp and body slumped like a rag doll. Though in reality, she reminds the blond of a dead bird- the kind that sing on thin branches and whistle through the breeze. In death, she has the appearance of a certain innocence and purity. Regardless if the demon was far from being as such.

The knife dissipates in time with the shield, causing the demon's lifeless body to twitch in a futile reaction. Her draining power hangs in the air in the form of what can only be described as a strangled cry that forces the cadets to cover their ears. It's a scream akin to the eerie wind that travels through the complex and it scatters just as effortlessly.

A touch upon his arm has the blond turning to look up at the dark class, and not at the black sand that gathers under the deceased demon's form. Steve opens his mouth to say something, until he sees Wanda and her own demon moving towards them in his peripheral vision. But that doesn't stop Bucky from entwining their fingers for a brief moment of shared warmth and affection before the other soldiers join them. The younger man desires nothing more than to press against that inviting chest as the demon wraps his arms around him, to bury his face in the crook of Bucky's shoulder and to repress the memory that he had just taken another life. A demonic life, but a life nonetheless. Steve cannot help but see Bucky as being a demon himself- a part of a species that is barely understood and which the cadet yearns to know more about. Although the blond often forgets that the dark class is far from human, even if they both feel very human emotions.

Having heard the commotion, _Agents_ and the other _Avengers_ isolate their location. Skye's gaze instantly falls upon the demon dead on the floor, and although her expression is difficult to read, she smiles at the blond as if impressed. But it's not as if the cadet hasn't killed a demon of such a level before. In fact, Steve contemplates his limits: how powerful a demon has to be until he can no longer execute it. With Bucky as his demon... surely it would have to be some terrifying, fierce creature. Perhaps a being with a far darker heart.

“Let's move on, there's just a few more demons left in the area for us to deal with,” Skye informs them, motioning her team to exit the building. The _Avengers_ follow closely behind, talking amongst themselves as quietly as the whispers of a forest.

The next three demons are only around level twenty, and the soldiers easily pick them off down the streets one by one while the bonded demons watch closely, and yet ignorantly. They show no remorse for the creatures that die right in front of their eyes. But perhaps it is just that they realise how easily the situation could be reversed. On the other hand, the dark class merely doesn't care. His entire species could be wiped out and Bucky wouldn't feel the slightest pain in his chest. Wouldn't feel lonely or fear his own future, not with a little blond warrior beside him smiling up at him so sweetly.

“You're a natural leader.”

“Hm?” Skye's sudden words startle to blond as he wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

“Your team looks to you, and you're focused. You can analyse the situation and you make sure everyone is where they should be. Everyone has their role in the team and that diversity makes your team one of the best I've seen. You watch out for them, you have their backs and they have yours,” Skye says honestly. What had been said in secret behind closed doors about the _Avengers_ (Steve in particular) hadn't quite grasped just how much potential the young soldier has. “You'll make a great captain when you graduate.”

In truth, Steve feels a little overwhelmed by everyone around him, with such experienced soldiers making the _Avengers_ feel rather child-like in comparison. But, the blond hopes that he can at least learn something from them, and to know that someone outside of his friendship zone believes in him... that's a pretty nice sensation.

“Oh, thank you,” Steve grins awkwardly, embarrassed by the compliment.

With a slight dip of her head, Skye turns away to address the _Agents_. Although they are not aware of it, the _Avengers_ have done far better on the mission than the other fourth years. They've helped clear the area in just over a couple hours, and now they can head back and aid any of the other graduated teams dotted throughout the city.

Steve pauses as something crunches under his boot, looking down at the patch of black sand splattered across the tarmac as if the wind had brought it there. It could almost be mistaken as a part of the rubble that litters the city. However, the tiny particles are shining with a unique darkness that attracts the blond's attention, but not for long. Bucky halts beside him, his body becoming stiff in reaction to something, or _someone_ that the cadet cannot perceive.

A flash of red light in the corner of his eye has his stare casting to the near distance where a line of three large white trucks block the road. There's that flicker of orange again under one of the trucks. Steve frowns as he tries to work out what it is.

What happens next occurs far too quickly for any human or demon to discern it. The fragile fumes that radiate from one of the trucks, and the faint snap of a fuel line. With a thundering bang and the extension of a ball of flames, the explosion knocks the soldiers and their demons to the ground.

There's a ringing in his ears, and smoke in his vision. Deafened and blinded, Steve doesn't see the demon that approaches them through the blaze.


	37. Your Shadows Swirl In The Depths Of My Lungs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Thirty-six:  
> **Steve found out that his father had been tracking a dark class demon, who obeys the death class (Known as the Kyosw).  
> **Now in their fourth year at the academy, the Avengers and Hydra were sent on a field mission with graduated soldiers.  
> **Teamed up with Agents, they were all taken by surprise at a sudden explosion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just finishing off writing Chapter Thirty-nine. Once that is done, I'll begin writing the final five chapters of the story- they've been planned for ages, so I'm eager to write them. The very final two chapters, have even been planned from before I posted this story, and I'm rather intrigued of what you will all think once The Demon Bond has been completed.  
> Besides that bit of information, thank you all for your support!!! There's more demon info and clarification/detail in this chapter, so I hope you enjoy reading it! :)

Grey smoke scratches at Steve's lungs, forcing the blond to cough through the ringing in his ears, the action leaving him with a sour taste on his tongue that burns the back of his throat. He's pressed up against a familiar, muscular chest, with just as familiar strong arms embracing him in an effort keep the cadet close. Black feathers push against the haze that surrounds them, clearing the smoke to reveal the fiery remains of the truck.

The high-pitched noise that distorts the blond's thoughts prevents him from hearing Bucky's words that are laced with nothing but concern. But, he can perceive the demon's lips moving as he looks up at the dark class no matter how hazy his vision may be. The younger man groans in the demon's hold, an unspeakable ache burning throughout his body as his mind still overworks itself with trying to figure out their next move. Merely trying to comprehend the situation has Steve's heart beating rapidly in his chest like the wings of a terrified bird.

_Steve._

It's faint enough that the blond knows that he isn't actually hearing his demon call his name, but that he is _feeling_ that urgency through their vibrating bond. Squinting with flecks of dust still blurring his sight, the smaller man's lashes flutter as a single metallic finger wipes at the droplets of tears that have gathered in the corners of blue eyes.

“ _Steve,_ ” Bucky coos, his right hand still tightly around the blond's waist like two pieces of a puzzle that belong connected to each other. _“Steve.”_ The demon's words gradually become clearer as the ringing slowly dulls, until at last, that deep, caring voice seeps into the blond's bones. The ache begins to fade, and the pounding at the back of his mind echoes into a tranquil state. “Steve.”

“Mmm, I'm okay,” the blond mutters, resting his head briefly on the demon's shoulder before thinking better of it. The dark smoke is transforming into a light grey to unveil the other interspersed cadets and their demons stumbling to their feet.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asks tenderly, scanning the cadet's expression and movements with a silver-flecked stare in search of any sign of the blond being in pain.

“Yeah,” Steve assures him. “What happened?”

Aiding the cadet up from the dusty road with a gentle hand at his waist, the demon's eyes refuse to leave the smaller man's unsteady form. Slender fingers digging into the fabric upon Bucky's broad shoulders, Steve struggles to stand. His knees quiver with the shock of the brutal explosion, body still trying to catch up to there being no immediate danger. At least not any danger that the cadet believes to be there.

Bucky's attention snaps to the side, away from the other soldiers and towards the smoky truck that reeks of fuel and hot metal. The demon's wings contract in irritation, not making a move, but making a stand. A defence and an unwillingness to run away. Steve glances over his own shoulder to find the misty street void of any wild beings.

“Bucky?” Steve calls the demon's name hesitantly, unsure of the rigid reaction as his irises turn completely silver with their piercing stare.

However, through the rising smoke and the heated flames, a humanoid figure emerges like a beast walking through a fire. But that's exactly what they are. Dark skin taut with muscles only partially concealed by brown fabric hanging modestly at his waist, the demon's eyes are wholly blood-red to contrast the porcelain fangs revealed by his cruel smile. Two long strands of black hair frame his face from where they have escaped the tangled hair pulled back to run along his spine. Three clawed scars mar the smoothness of his chest, the skin rough and jagged as if the flesh had been torn deeply to cause immense pain.

Fire Class.

Warrior Type.

On his left arm, a dull symbol has been imprinted into its surface. Steve wouldn't have even noticed it hadn't it been for the tendrils of flames that had caused the mark to glow with the reflection of the orange light. A slither of dread buries itself into the pit of Steve's stomach as a jolt of recognition turns the clockworks in his mind.

Although the blond cannot even begin to fathom its level, the cadet can only assume that the demon must be of a high level. Especially as it bears the mark of the _Kyosw._ The silver star is like a beacon of fear, for Steve knows that the demon has been sent by the death class who wishes the blond dead. A demon who desires to torment Bucky and take away what is seemingly precious to him for reasons that are like ghosts: unseen and set in the past.

The sound of a low growl echoing up from Bucky's chest into his throat does nothing to deter the fire class who clenches their fists. Two spheres of vibrant fire cloak the demon's hands, his attention fixated on the young, blond warrior and the dark class at his side. Crackling fire from the truck drowns out the shouts from the other soldiers who have noticed the rogue demon edging closer.

Steve swings his arm out across his chest as he manifest the shield, the sleek weapon protecting him regardless if Bucky makes a move or not. It's as if the two demons are exchanging silent words, for the fire class pauses mid-step with a darkened smirk. Its stare burns ice-cold, emotion never having once graced the demon's hateful heart.

It's one of the _Agents_ who takes the first shot at the fiend, sending a spiralled blue spear through the fading smoke straight at the rogue demon. But as the weapon become inches from becoming embedded in the thick flesh, the spear melts with the heat that radiates from the demon's core. The weapon splatters like liquefied blue gems on the ground, and after an all-too-quiet moment of shock where even the cadets can hear their own pulses loudly in their ears... the demon _laughs._

It's a blend between a snarl and a deep bark but it is mostly definitely a laugh. Like the fiend is mocking the futile attempt to destroy it. Those few seconds of devilish amusement end as quickly as a flash of lightning, the demon's face creasing in disgust. Although its manner is aggressive, it is also being calculating. The fire class doesn't stand a chance up against Bucky's immense power, which only means the rogue demon is displaying his potential power without actually initiating an attack. That's giving him the time to plan the path ahead.

Bucky isn't the target. Steve is.

Skye calls through the smoke residue in the grotty air, signalling her team to spread at a distance around the demon without getting too close to the scorching truck. She shouts for the _Avengers_ to step away out of danger- the demon is far out of the level range that the fourth years can handle. Steve backs up, allowing Skye to take his place without so much as a reluctant grunt from the dark class.

Bucky is more than pleased to get the blond further from the rogue demon who hisses in retaliation- though he would much rather kill the demon in the mere couple seconds it would take for him to do so. But he won't without one of two things. A direct order from Steve to destroy the demon. Or Steve's life being in immediate danger.

If something or someone threatens the blond's existence... they better be damn well prepared to face the cunning and wrath of the bonded dark class demon.

Steve meets up with the rest of the _Avengers_ who are huddled together a little ways off from where the more experienced soldiers are tackling the rogue, growling demon. It's acting as if human presence is nothing but a mere nuisance to it, as if the soldiers are a minuscule obstacle upon a wide, unbending path.

Watching them with interest and a curiosity for the fire class, the blond studies their futile tactics with a frown. The other team is failing to make progress on taking the demon down; whenever their weapons get within inches of dark flesh, they melt like plastic being presented to a hot flame. To then disintegrate into coloured mists, the repetitive action forces each soldier to manifest their weapon again and again.

There must be a better way of dealing with the demon. Preferably one that doesn't involve the dark class who observes from beside the shorter man.

“Uh, Steve. We got a problem...” Sam cautiously informs him, lightly nudging the cadet's arm to encourage him to look round. Steve's attention immediately drags from the high level demon, to where brown eyes have discovered a snake-like creature converging on them.

Certainly another Fire Class.

Its scales shine like rubies, as if little diamond slices of crystals have formed over the slim body of the demon. Forked tongue flickering out, flashes of embers drip from the corner's of its broad mouth while its three black eyes reflect the orange of the fire being vented from inside the truck ruins. As the creature draws nearer, its size becomes apparent and the cadets feel a sensation of unease wash over them.

More than ten feet in length and keeping low to the ground, the demon's focus is on the other fiend until it becomes within striking distance of the cadets. Then, and only then, does the demon let out a hiss that rattles in its throat. Lifting the front part of its body off the ground, bulky flaps of skin break from its neck to form the hood one would only ever identify with a cobra.

Bucky's lack of concern about the new demon is a tell-tale sign to the blond that the creature must be of a reasonably low level- certainly under forty (even with its reluctance to take on a humanoid form) compared to the other rogue demon who is most likely more than level seventy.

Although Steve won't feel regret for not making the first move himself, he will certainly feel guilty for not taking the split-second opportunity to tell his teammates not to attack the demon who merely displays a warning to them.

A purple shuriken spirals in the air, keen point immersing into the demon's leathery skin above where its sleek ribs align and protect its insides. A penetrating, gruff squeal emits from the demon's gaping mouth; revealing rows upon rows of jagged white teeth. In an instant, the fiend pulls back against itself in preparation of a forceful strike as it aims for the attacker. But before the demon's jaws can reach Sam, Wanda's whip entangles around its form to jerk the creature harshly to the side. It's just as they've practised and executed throughout the day- there's no need to confirm their next moves, for the _Avengers_ already know their strength and weaknesses, and the tactics they need to use together to slaughter a demon with efficiency.

But something just doesn't seem _right._

The fire class demons had merely displayed signs of defence. Being the most territorial demons, of course the creatures would try to protect what they believe is now theirs rather than run away from a group of mere humans. But there's something else too, a curiosity in their eyes that has turned darker and more hostile as each fire class takes on a separate team.

It doesn't _feel_ right.

It's not as if the weaker demon truly stands a chance against the _Avengers._ Swift and organised, Clint had used the short time his teammates had given him to manifest his weapon. Pulling back the tight string, within seconds, the arrow becomes lodged into the demon's third eye that sits in the centre of its forehead. There's a split-second delay before the demon's body hits the ground with a glass-shattering cry.

There's no time to react, but luckily for the blond, Bucky has been keeping his eye on the more powerful fire class demon. Seizing the cadet's upper arm, Bucky twists the blond against his chest to force the smaller man to look to where _Agents_ are struggling to suppress the demon. Its movements have become more erratic, sending a wall of yellow fire out around it. The more experienced soldiers take refuge behind abandoned cars to escape the scorching flames.

As if in response to the demon's death, the fire class burns into a humanoid fire that lifts onto one of the roofs of the cars, jumping like a fiery mass towards the _Avengers._ The demon is swooping towards them so quickly, that none of the cadets would have been able to manifests their weapons fast enough to protect themselves- not that it would have made any difference at all to the superior being.

That is, except for Steve. The blond can feel Bucky's immense power coursing through his veins, pumping through his cells with each hammering beat of his heart. The energy is warm, wholly accepting of the human and flowing freely through their bond. Fixating the energy around his arm, black shadows swirl around the surface of his skin to form the shield once more. In that very same moment, Bucky takes a step away from the blond to provide him with room to shift his shoulder back and toss the weapon in the demon's path.

The shield taking the fire class by surprise, he doesn't have enough time to react to the black weapon that strikes through the air until its sharp edge slices through the demon's throat. There's blue, gurgled blood that splatters from the demon's mouth, and then nothing but silence that is only broken by the sound of footsteps pounding closer.

That's it.

That's all it took to bring the fire class to its knees. To end its existence. Just one hit from a bonded soldier with a demon more powerful than any one of them can comprehend. Just one hit from a soldier with more potential than the greatest warriors in history.

It seems almost anticlimactic.

But it's enough to impress Fury and the other soldiers who had received one of the _Agents_ signals for backup. The shield slowly turns into nothing, but not before the old soldier spots it- though Fury simply gives the blond a brief look of knowing before addressing the two teams.

Fury's words vaguely register with Steve, the only indication that they can head back to the military vehicles is when Tony taps the smaller man's shoulder. Snapped away from his thoughts, Steve leads his team back to the outskirts of the city, closely follow by _Agents._ Skye watches the younger man as if she wishes to say something to him, but clearly thinks better of it when she turns to Ward.

The high level fire class demon... it's as if he had gone to the sound of the other demon's cries. Had lashed out seemingly because of that very reason- as if he had been trying his best at revenge before being thwarted by the blond. It makes Steve wonder just how the demon had gone undetected before. If Fury had known of the demon's presence, they would have been warned before being confronted by the fiend. He surely couldn't have just come through the Netherworld either, for any gateway openings would have been reported.

However, it reminds the cadet all-too-well of the situation they had in the arena with the water class demon. Hidden from military technology, the demon had effectively become invisible to military eyes. Until it was too late. But it's not as if the two demons are the only creatures to have been masked from human technology. Whenever Bucky is in Brooklyn with the blond, the dark class doesn't set off any alarms either.

There's something else that bothers the cadet too. How the fire class had reacted to the weaker demon's death, that kind of response is unheard of. Such demon behaviour has never been witnessed, and the blond is left worrying about just how much more there is to know concerning demon communication and relationships. It could affect their tactics on field missions, especially as more and more demons bearing the mark of the _Kyosw_ seem to be making an appearance.

Steve feels nauseous, and the rocky ride back to the academy doesn't help, even with Bucky's hidden fingers intertwined with his own the whole way.

        

“Fuck. This feels so nice,” Steve exhales, leaning his back against the demon's damp shoulder as the warm water flourishes down upon their dirtied forms. Grey dust forms wet clumps around the drain to mix with particles of bland soap as the grime is expelled from their skin.

Bucky peppers kisses against his flushed cheeks, palms slotted against the naked sharpness of the younger man's hip bones. They got damn lucky with that fire class; the most serious injury anyone suffered were some light burns from the demon and scrapes from the unexpected explosion. For those who needed it, a trip to medical was all it took for the soldiers to be back to full health. But even with wounds mended, no amount of bandages or pain killers can erase what they had seen. The situation with the high level fire class demon had certainly surprised them all, and yet Steve knows more about the demon's purpose than any of the other humans.

“The demon today had the mark of the _Kyosw,”_ the blond whispers as he cranes his neck to meet his demon's gaze.

“He did.” The dark class presses a single kiss to the tip of Steve's nose.

“Did you know him too? You recognised him, didn't you?” Twisting in Bucky's hold, the younger man stretches up onto his tiptoes as his arms link around the back of the demon's neck.

“I knew the demon, yes.” Realigning his own hands to the small of the cadet's back, the dark class aligns their chests, trapping beads of water between them. “I didn't know them well.”

Steve averts his eyes, biting his lower lip in a nervous habit as thoughts flutter through his mind like a flock of swooping crows. Unsure of exactly how he should ask the questions he so desperately desires to know the answers to, the blond can merely begin to makes statements until he finds the right words.

“I know my father was investigating that dark class demon, and that the demon wears the mark of the death class demon too... I know you said that your own mark doesn't mean that you obey the _Kyosw...”_ Steve touches Bucky's metallic arm, right above where his mark is concealed and where water droplets land and cascade down the cool limb. The blond's fingertips are gentle, as if to soothe a creature who could lash out at any moment. “So, what does it mean? It's the same symbol just different colours, and I don't get how much of a difference that makes.”

“I wasn't a part of your father's death. I never met him and I wasn't aware of the connection until...” The demon trails off, not to purposely entice the blond's curiosity or to swallow information that should not be said. No, Bucky has merely lost himself in the glistening of two blue gems, as if they contain the depths of an entire lake in each of them.

So full of affection and wonder, the darkest parts of them weaved with stubbornness; how could Bucky not possibly lose himself within them?

“Until what?” Steve urges with a gentle push of his body against the demon's solid form.

“I saw his journal.” The dark class explains, non-metallic hand drifting up the slight bumps of Steve's spine. With inconceivable strength, the demon could easily break the seemingly delicate vertebrae as one might break a brittle fingernail. “I didn't think the symbol on it was just there by coincidence.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew that a group of human soldiers had been following the demon's tracks.” Bucky pauses for just a moment as his hand settles at the narrow lines of Steve's ribcage. “Obsessively.”

“The dark class? The one who killed my father?” The blond frowns, though he waits for his demon's answer before bombarding him with another question that seeks to confirm the rootless thoughts in his mind. Like trees without a steady grip in the earth, founded on nothing but air as it searches for the truth that lies within the ground.

“Yes.”

“You knew that because you know the dark class demon?”

“His name is _Loki.”_

Steve isn't sure what to make of that. If Bucky knows the other demon's name, just what sort of relationship did they have? Did they speak once, or many times? Did they tolerate one another, or are they stubborn enemies? None of that feels quite right. There's something else hidden away from the blond's knowledge, and it's as if Steve needs to search through thick, perilous vines to find it. But Steve cannot cut the pathway himself, he needs Bucky to reveal the road to his past, otherwise the human will only get lost in darkness.

“And he follows the orders of the death class demon.” That's not a question, and Bucky doesn't interpret it as one. “How do you know all these demons then who obey the _Kyosw?_ ”Now, that is a question Bucky certainly ignores. As if he's putting up a barricade that even the most tempting stubbornness cannot wear down. Steve slightly purses his lips in a hum, contemplating his next words before his voice lowers just enough to capture the demon's attention. Like a siren's lullaby; laced with promises and much more. “You know...”

Bucky's stare is firmly fixed down upon the blond's pale body, those angled hips swaying as the younger man shifts his feet upon the warm floor and the pooling water lapping at their bare heels. Slender hands trail the demon's chest, feeling the thick muscles under the pads of his fingertips.

“Hm?”

“You avoided my question about your mark,” Steve says softly.

There's that moment of silence where Steve thinks he's said something that overstepped the invisible boundary. But then the demon sighs, and the blond feels both relief and hesitancy at Bucky's indifferent tone.

“It's a brand.”

“A what?” Surely the cadet hadn't heard that right.

“It means I'm _branded.”_

Unfamiliar with the term, and more than perplexed at what his demon means by that, Steve can merely frown at Bucky to aid his own fumbled words.

“I- I don't...”

“It's a sign that the _Kyosw_ wants me dead,” Bucky confesses, hiding more emotion than surely any being is capable of doing.

“So it basically means _'if you want to please the death class, kill me'?”_ The younger man scoffs, disbelieving despite feeling the demon's sincerity through the throbs of their bond. Of course, the cadet knows Bucky is telling him the truth... he just wishes that the truth wasn't so _disturbing._

Even if some of the demons who obey the _Kyosw_ don't know Bucky, they will be easily able to recognise him as being targeted by the death class at just one mere glimpse at the red mark. If that is indeed what the symbol means, at least in Bucky's case.

“Did you know all these demons before or after you were branded?” Steve inquires cautiously.

“Some before, some after...”

“Oh, Bucky...”The human carefully cups Bucky's face between silky palms, nothing but a soothing sympathy dripping from his words. He knows that he cannot possibly comfort the horror's of his demon's past, but there's no chance that he wont at least try to do so. Although just having a few glimpses at the ghosts of Bucky's past would perhaps help the blond to not only understand a pain he cannot comprehend, but in turn aid in the closing of the demon's gushing wounds. “What happened to you? What happened between you and that death class? What could you have possibly done to make him want to hurt you? To put a brand on you like some animal?”

“I think... that's enough questions for today, my little warrior,” the demon says quietly, pressing his forehead to the younger man's in a gesture akin to defeat. Those haunting memories must be exhausting, and yet Steve cannot bring himself to push the demon into sharing their burden. When the dark class is ready, then (and only then) will Steve know everything.

“Okay.”

        

He knows that Bucky is staring at him. Watching him and observing him like a hawk. Silver-flecked eyes on every movement, no matter how small and dull. They burn into every fibre of his being as shadows seep into his aura to overwhelm it. Just like how the darkness can erase any remains of light.

The blond spits once into the sink, running the toothbrush under the icy water before returning it back to its rightful place on the side. Taking the flannel, Steve wipes his mouth, casting his gaze into the mirror to find the demon leaning slanted against the door frame.

“Enjoying the view?” The blond jests, turning to the demon with a smile.

Cream skin clad only in tight briefs and a black shirt that hangs at his hips... of course Bucky is enjoying himself looking up and down the younger man's figure. However, patience was never one the of the demon's virtues, and he finds it extremely difficult to refrain from constantly having his hands upon the human. To breathe in the scent Bucky craves and to listen to his moans that only grow louder with time. The demon wants to touch him, to hold him and have those nails scratching into his back. Although the marks would disappear almost instantly, for a mere second, there's proof that the demon can make the blond lose himself in pleasure.

“You are beautiful,”Bucky admits, smirking at the blond, his right hand held out to him. Steve takes it without a second thought, allowing the dark class to lead him closer.

“Mm, flatterer.” Laughing softly, he follows the demon to the neatly tucked covers of the bed.

It's like a routine Steve cannot ever imagine ceasing. Bucky will open up his arms in the darkness, and the blond will instinctively fall into that strong embrace. Surrounded by a thin, rough duvet, it is the shadows and a certain heated form that keeps the smaller man cosy and protected during the cold of the night.

Bucky never pushes the cadet further with anything more than a kiss that the human can choose to deepen. Regardless of the demon's desires, he waits for Steve's consent. Always. This, he remains patient with. If the blond were to utter words of discomfort or discontent, the demon would stop instantly without beratement- not that such situations ever truly occur. Not since they had crossed the last obstacle into the next step of their physical relationship back in the confines and safety of Steve's old room.

Although that is the furthest they have gone, as well as the only time doing so (not necessarily by a conscious choice, it had just worked out that way) it's not as if the bonded pair can resist gentle, familiar grinding that turns more rough and desperate in the quiet of the blond's dorm. In those irresistible instances of broken moans and sticky palms, the shadows keep their sounds contained.

Steve wants to go further with Bucky. Perhaps explore a little more of that uncharted territory that makes the younger man nervous and red-faced first. Even if the demon always soothes his anxiety, no matter their cause. He knows that having sex with Bucky would feel amazing. But the blond just isn't quite there yet, and he appreciates the demon not forcing him more than he can put into words. There's just something holding him back, and the cadet isn't quite sure what that is.

“Something on your mind?” Bucky asks, metallic fingers entangling with golden locks that feel like silk under the demon's sensors.

It's been a few weeks since their last field mission, where the blond had slaughtered the high level fire class demon. Steve has been bothered by it since they came back to the academy, and it's been difficult to retain his questions as to not provoke his own demon. But, the blond wants to know. _Needs_ to know. And only Bucky can give him the answers he so desperately seeks.

“I just still can't believe we're already in our fourth year,” Steve murmurs against the crook of Bucky's shoulder.

“Why's that?”

“Time has gone so quickly, and yet I feel like I've known you all my life. Even if it's only been a little over three years.” Maybe that is a long time, maybe it's not. One can only compare it to the time they have left together. Even if they are unsure of how long that will be. “It's like I've learnt so much, and yet...”

“What is it, my little warrior?”

“There's still so much to learn. The fire class the other week, he wasn't picked up by the scanners. It was a complete surprise and it shouldn't have been.” Hating the sensation of the unknown, the blond has to restrain his scowl as he shifts to look into the demon's eyes. He's not trying to accuse Bucky of anything, but he is attempting to pry an answer from him. “But it's not as if he's the first demon for that to happen to. The same thing occurred with the water class back in the arena. And when you're in New York, the detectors don't pick up on your signal either.”

“What do you want me to say?” Bucky grumbles, leaning in to kiss the exposed skin of the blond's throat, soft under his lips as if kissing an ambrosial flower's petal.

“How they're doing it for a start. How _you_ are doing it.” Steve gasps as the demon nips the flesh above his pulse point, pulling the skin gently between his teeth before letting it go with a docile swipe of his tongue.

“I disrupt the scanners so that they do not reflect my presence.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“It's a little complex. It is something I learned to do a long time ago,” the demon explains, manipulating the smaller man onto his back to allow the dark class to hover just a fraction above him. The blond fits so perfectly underneath him, especially with those stubborn eyes looking up at him in a growing bliss.

“When you were in this world before?” The younger man raises a brow in his confusion. However, the demon doesn't see it, for he's too consumed in tasting the blond's scent at the flow of his collarbone.

“Yes,” Bucky murmurs against him, just vaguely listening and interpreting the cadet's words- though he certainly hears them, like lyric-less music.

That's all good and well (and puzzling) but there's something else that has been nagging the blond's insides. As if the point of a sharp stone has been making tiny cuts inside his chest and at the back of his mind.

“Can I ask you something else if it's not to do with the Kyosw?”

“Of course.” Bucky pulls back to look the cadet in the eye, arms looped under his slim waist in support.

“The fire class demon... when the lower level demon screamed, he went to help it.” Steve begins slowly, arms slotted between them with his hands upon the demon's shoulders. “I've never seen demon communication like that before. Why would he have responded to it?”

“It is likely that the more powerful demon had heard the others when they died too. Like an alarm. It is something to be investigated. And when you first killed the _wind class_ demon, the others in the area would have been informed of our presence.”

“How?”

It surely can't hurt to press for just a little more detail? Right? Fortunately for the blond, Bucky doesn't seem to mind at all. When it's not too personal, the dark class tends to be far more open with the human.

“Because your weapons come from my own power, it leaves a residual mark when you use them to kill a demon. It is something only demons can sense, and it means we can tell what kind of demon is responsible for the kill,” Bucky explains. Though there is a nonchalance to his voice that suggests he would rather be talking about something else, or perhaps, he would prefer to hear the blond talk more about the human realm instead.

“So you're saying that the high level fire class heard the demons dying, came to investigate and realised that a couple of them had been killed by a dark class demon, well, uh, you. Technically... Because of the residue left by the shield and knife.” Steve wonders just how strong demon senses must be for them to be able to decipher even the tiniest fragments of power left behind. The cadet assumes that a demon's class must directly affect the residue, and perhaps that the level determines how much, or how distinct the residue is.

“He would have looked into the deaths because those demons wore the mark of the _Kyosw_ as well, although the marks were concealed from you humans. If they did not obey the _Kyosw,_ then the demon wouldn't have bothered responding to their screams at all.” Bucky shows no sign of remorse in his blatant words.

“And as soon as the fire class realised that you were there, he came after us,” the blond mutters to his demon, whose expression turns darker as if trying to fight off memories of something far deeper in the past.

“Exactly that. Demons do foolish things to try to please the _Kyosw.”_

While that may be true, that doesn't explain the demon's actions. The fire class hadn't outright attacked them. There is no doubt in Steve's mind that he had caused the explosion, but once his eyes were on the bonded pair, he had wandered closer, only to pause.

What exactly had the demon wanted?

“But he didn't make a move, he didn't try to kill us.”

“I think he was trying to make sure of my identity,” Bucky clarifies. However, the younger man is certain that his demon knows what the fire class had been waiting for. There's no _I think_ about it. It's fact. But, perhaps Bucky is merely trying to comfort the blond- to not worry him with the knowledge of something more disturbing... so he laces his words with uncertainties. For that is often less terrifying than the pure truth.

“Before what?” Steve folds his legs around the demon's waist, thighs upon hips as if the blond can't even comprehend letting the dark class go. Not that Bucky feels any differently.

“Before going to find the _Kyosw._ But he got distracted when the young fire class was killed.”

“And why bother helping another demon? Did the low level demon obey the _Kyosw_ too?” That would explain why the high level demon had responded to the weaker demon as well as the deaths of the other demon's the two teams had killed.

“Perhaps. I wasn't too interested in looking. The young demon wasn't any of my concern.” Bucky pulls himself to sit up, hauling the younger man with him into his lap in one graceful motion; akin to magnets connecting and realigning themselves through attraction. Their faces are mere inches apart, so close that their warm breaths entwine just as their auras do.

“But why help?” There's something missing. The demon's behaviour had been passionate like nothing Steve had ever seen or read about before. He had moved with purpose, and reacted because of more than just a mark signalling their obedience to a deadly force.

“They may have known each other,” Bucky grudgingly admits.

“So the high level fire class sympathised with him, and wanted to help? That doesn't sound very demon like. I thought demons weren't capable of those emotions.” Then again, perhaps there is something to Bucky's words. Steve frowns as the scenario plays again and again like a recording kept on repeat. “But he had seemed so angry though when my team killed the demon...”

“They may have been close. I don't particularly care.” Silver-flecked eyes refuse to look away from the blue eyes that stare stubbornly as they dissect every one of the demon's words. That lack of emotion catches the blond off guard, especially as Bucky's statement registers with his mind.

What?

Goosebumps instantly appear on the cadet's cold skin as the realisation hits him like the force of an avalanche. Steve pushes against the demon's chest, disentangling his legs from around him and turning away. Bucky allows the blond to slip from his embrace, though he takes hold of the blond's thin wrist to prevent him from going any further than just a few inches away on the firm mattress.

“How can you even say that?” Steve exclaims, though he yields to Bucky's touch, regardless that he could escape if he tried hard enough. But he does interlock their stares, both as seemingly as stubborn as the other. “They could have been _friends?_ Are demons even capable of that? I mean... uh, demons less powerful than you.”

“If being friends involves joy in the company of another, then yes.”

“I thought... Oh, God... Then he basically saw his friend being murdered right in front of him!” Steve automatically brings his free hand to his mouth, that sick feeling churning in his stomach once more. It never truly fades, as if there's something distressing and lethal wandering along the unseen road ahead of them. The uncertainty of their future, is always on the cadet's mind, no matter his determination to stay with the dark class for however long is humanly possible.

“What's the problem? They needed to die.” The dark class frowns, absent of empathy. But the human never presumed otherwise of him, specifically on Bucky's mindset about his own kind.

“How could you think something so cruel? It would hurt to see someone you care about being killed like some animal!” Steve's voice becomes louder with each frustrated word. But honestly, he's more ashamed of himself. With a softer tone, the blond continues at trying to give some explanation; to just try and make the demon grasp at a hint of understanding on how he perceives the situation himself. “It would have hurt him to see that, despite being a demon.”

“There isn't a point in dwelling on it, Steve. You need to disregard your emotions and not regret killing those who would otherwise try to break us apart.”


	38. Your Darkness Takes Without Remorse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Thirty-seven:  
> **The Avengers and Agents got attacked by two fire class demons (one of which was of a very high level that Bucky knew- and had the mark of the Kyosw).  
> **Bucky confessed that his own mark is a brand, to show that the Kyosw (death class) wants him dead.  
> **Bucky also admitted to being able to disrupt scanners, so that he can escape detection.  
> **Using the demon manifested weaponry, it leaves a unique residual mark that only demons can sense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm hopefully finishing off writing chapter forty today in-between doing coursework*. It always seems to be the case of getting one piece done, then you get more work to do and more with that haha Although, because of some personal plans ahead of time, the next update will actually be two days earlier than I had originally had in mind.
> 
> On another good (maybe?) note, I will be adding more tags to the story soon... ;) Definitely by the end of next week. So, just be aware of that...
> 
> Oh! And feel absolutely free to make predictions on the story's ending- some of you have already and they are really interesting to read!! I'm super excited about the path The Demon Bond is going in, so I won't be commenting on the theories (whether right or wrong) made in particular because I just know I won't be able to help myself and give something away haha  
> I am extremely grateful for every single one of my reader's support. New or old, it doesn't matter, I appreciate you all! Thank you <3
> 
> *Edit: Chapter Forty is done! On to chapter forty-one now. :D  
> *Edit..again: Tags have been added! ;)

_You need to disregard your emotions and not regret killing those who would otherwise try to break us apart._

Steve gets that, he truly does. The blond would do anything to be able to stay with his demon, even if that means keeping secrets and taking lives. But that doesn't mean the cadet doesn't have second thoughts about the lengths they need to take to stay together. Right and wrong is no longer as black and white as he once thought.

“I understand that, but I can't help but feel guilty! It makes it harder knowing that we've been killing creatures who aren't what we thought them to be.” The blond shakes his head as if to help him comprehend the influx of new information. As if a giant tidal wave has washed over him, the current pulling him under, its depths far darker than Steve imagined. “I thought you were different, but from what you're telling me, other demons are just as capable of making friends as we are. To live peacefully with another. Even if the dynamics are different, the principle is still the same.”

“What your kind see of demons in your realm is different from my own.”

The blond frowns at that- do demons behave differently in the safety and familiarity of their own realm? Does human presence cause demon behaviour to change? Or is it that merely humans have been misinterpreting demon behaviour all along? What's so different in the demon realm? The recent cases of demons working together to destroy cities, are they demons who could be seen as _friends_ as well? Is that why they work together? Or is there some higher force causing them to tolerate one another to achieve a certain goal? Why have humans only witnessed demons being on their own in the past, and why are things seemingly changing now?

Steve isn't sure, but luckily, he has a creature of darkness to ask his questions to.

“In the Netherworld, do some demons live together then? In groups or pairs or... Those two demons surely aren't the only ones to be friends.”

“ _Steve,”_ the dark class sternly warns. But the blond is far from deterred. In fact, the demon's reluctance to share such information only makes the human more inquisitive.

“Come on, Bucky. There surely couldn't have just been you and two other demons capable of forming friendships. What about all the demons in your realm?” The blond leans in close, planting his hands on the demon's thighs while he settles on his own knees.

“I don't have _friends,_ Steve. I've been on my own and I don't want to be in the company of my own kind. I want nothing to do with them. That includes discussing them,” Bucky reprimands with an expression of distaste. As if the mere thought of being in the company of other demons disgusts him. His voice remains steady, refusing to waver with anger but Steve can still see it in the silver of his eyes.

“Then what about me? Don't you see me as your friend?” Steve asks gingerly, pressing his weight onto his hands upon the demon's legs, feeling Bucky's words ghost along his pink lips with a reply.

“No, I don't.”

There's a delayed second of no reaction from the cadet, until Bucky's emotionless words dig into the flesh of his mind. With a _tsk,_ the smaller man quickly pulls back to rest on his haunches. Steve tries to tug his hand away, but the demon only tightens his grip around the delicate wrist, the bones easily breakable. In reality, with the force of Steve trying to pull away, if the demon were to let go, the cadet would only bang his shoulder against the wall. Yet still, the younger man resists the touch, unable to meet the demon's sombre look of irritation.

With a frustrated sigh -his body tense like just before a battle- unable to escape Bucky's touch, the blond finds the courage to stare into the demon's eyes.

“What the _fuck,_ Bucky?” Steve retorts, voice oozing with agitation, and undoubtedly hurt. The demon can see faint anguish swirling amongst blue, and he hates that more than anything. To think that he has caused the cadet to become unsettled about Bucky's intentions. That knowledge nags at something chained up and concealed in the back of his mind, dragging it to the surface as the blond exclaims everything he wishes not to be true. “Am I just an inconvenience for you then? Something for you to amuse yourself with? I thought you cared about me. Or are your words just lies?”

The demon never was good with words.

A startled gasp escapes the blond's lips as he is pushed roughly back onto the mattress, his form causing the material to dip just the slightest under his weight. Completely enclosed with the demon's body looming over him, and trapped by the metallic fingers around his wrists held above his head, Steve can only stare up at his demon with wide, stubborn eyes. Bucky's other hand is at the base of his throat. Not pressing down as to cut off the warm flow of air into his lungs, but touching enough to feel the pulse of blood underneath.

The cadet doesn't struggle. All logic dictates he _should_. However, Bucky is not someone he fears.

Steve doesn't fear the embrace of shadows, nor does he fear the smooth touch of metal upon his skin. Nor does he fear the two silver-flecked eyes framed by dark strands that never seem to grow. He doesn't have a reason (at least not one that can be found within his heart) to fear his demon. Not even with the demon's hand at his throat. Not even when he is most vulnerable beneath the demon's chest.

The younger man becomes silent as the demon speaks; tone far from harsh and if anything, it reassures and soothes the cadet's anxious thoughts.

“What I feel for you is more than what describes a friend. I don't see our relationship as being similar to that you have with your teammates or the relationship other demons have with each other.” Bucky loosens his hold on the blond's wrists, metallic palm drifting to rest against the pillow beside golden locks. “Most demons interact on the basis of power and authority. But yes, sometimes my own kind form mutual relationships which could be seen as being friends.” Steve's eyes briefly close as Bucky's non-metallic hand moves from his throat to trace down his chest before planting gently at his navel. “But you mean everything to me, Steve. Everything. And I wont let any demon take you from me, even if I have to kill every single one of my own kind. Even if I have to kill the _Kyosw._ I will do anything, I just want to be with you.”

Bucky means every word. Steve only knows it for he feels the very same way. They've exchanged such words before, and they will continue to do so until there's no reason for them to be apprehensive of either the past or future.

“You don't have to do that alone. I'm here, and I'm willing to fight with you.” Steve cups the demon's face between the softness of his hands, bringing the demon's firmly-set lips closer to give them a single kiss. The action says more than the words that trickle out of his mouth, and yet still the blond allows his thoughts to be laid out in the open. “I just... perhaps I just don't understand the enemy as much as you do, and it surprises me how much more there is for me to know.”

Bucky tenderly bumps their noses, like a cat in bliss as he nuzzles the cadet. Although the blond can't bring himself to smile or giggle at his demon's actions, his eyes nonetheless shine with happiness.But there remains a troubled thought in his mind. Like the thorn of a green stem or a stone in the sand. Akin to a dark shadow in an otherwise clear lake. Even the kisses upon the stretch of his throat do nothing to erase the smaller man's guilty conscience.

“Demons are more like the human race than anyone even realises... And that just makes everything so much worse,” Steve whispers remorsefully.

Bucky pauses the wandering of his lips upon pale, silky skin that almost seems akin to pink petals where the vessels beneath are filled with warmth.

The blond doesn't expect the demon to shift beside him to pull the younger man into his arms; holding onto him tightly, their forms hidden and enveloped in darkness while a metallic hand brushes through the cadet's hair. It's more than a little comforting, and Steve welcomes the touch with a sigh as he instinctively finds the crook of the demon's shoulder to bury his face into.

“I know that you get upset when we've killed one of my kind. But I just want you to know that sometimes we don't have a choice. We need to survive, and we are not killing the innocent. The demons who obey the _Kyosw_ have caused bloodshed before. Some have killed humans, and some have killed other demons. Your morals on what is right and wrong isn't as simple as you want it to be. It's just a matter of surviving,” Bucky reveals softly. Perhaps it wasn't what the cadet wanted to hear, but maybe it was what he merely _needed_ to hear his demon say.

“He's going to keep sending demons after us, isn't he? The _Kyosw?”_

“Yes, my little warrior. He is rather persistent,” the dark class admits in return to the murmured words, for there is no reason for Steve not to know. Especially as this is clearly a battle they are both invested in. The cadet needs to grasp an understanding of their enemy, even if he will not be able to fully understand the extent of the pain the Kyosw has caused, and will possibly cause. “But, it'll be alright, as long as we're together. As long as I have you.”

“Don't ever let me go.” Steve's voice is so quiet, that it almost sounds breathless. As if the mere idea that the demon could be taken from him pierces him with distress.

“I wont.”

“Promise me.” Clutching the demon's chest, Bucky can sense that desperation. Can feel it in the quivers of their bond and the smaller form that has become rigid in his arms with tension.

“I promise.” Bucky presses a single, lingering kiss to the blond's forehead, golden locks like the finest silk against his lips. Fragrant like a wild flower blossoming in the warm spring; it's oh-so tempting to cut it. To free it from the earth and into the creases of one's hand. To keep it inside one's home beside the window looking out at the rest of the world. With only a pool of water to keep it alive only for one's own delight. But doing such a thing... the flower will eventually wilt and turn black with death. It is sometimes best to allow the flower to grow on its own, surrounded by the elements its stubbornness will surely make it thrive. That way, one can appreciate the beauty of the flower for far longer.

The demon's non-metallic hand slips under the thin fabric of the blond's shirt, fingertips trailing across the base of his spine up to the dip between slim shoulder blades. The action rolls the material to around the cadet's waist, though with the heated air warmed by shadows gracing his skin, Steve can barely feel the difference. The silver of the moon is slowly shrouded by the grey clouds brought by a bitter wind. Soft rays cut off from entering the room, the ajar ensuite door allows a fraction of white light to escape and illuminate just a slit of their forms.

“Bucky...” The blond begins quietly, earning him another kiss to his forehead and the slightest of hums in a gesture to show that the demon is listening intently to him. “Thank you for trying to make me feel better.”

“How did I do?”

“Good. Anyone would think you're becoming more sensitive,” Steve jests with a smile, cheeks dusted with a delicate pink hue.

Bucky chuckles at that, causing the cadet to erupt into gentle laughter as well. With an innateness never before witnessed, their eyes find one other in the darkness for a moment of content silence.

Neither are quite sure who leans in first to gently press their lips together. Perhaps they both do so at the very same time- it wouldn't be a surprise. The beats of their hearts are so in-tune that their bond can only reverberate their entwined emotions back and forth between them.

The blond has a lot to process: about the fire class demons, the death class, their future and Bucky's past... But just a few minutes of thinking of nothing but Bucky's body pressing against him and his lips that taste like fresh fruit, provides the human with a sweet relief that Steve never wants to let go of. It's a lazy kiss that deepens with a nudge of Bucky's tongue sliding across the plumpness of his own bottom lip.

Unable to contain the moan edging its way out of his throat, he can only part his lips in response to the demon's tender actions. Feeling his limbs relaxing under Bucky's dominating touch, Steve gasps as his demon's metallic hand brushes adamantly down his thigh; palming at the soft flesh and gripping just up from behind the back of the blond's knee, Bucky hooks the smooth muscle onto his hip.Steve's moans are louder this time in his demon's ears, for Bucky's movements have brought their groins to rub together through the familiar, thin fabric of their underwear with each intake of breath.

Bucky's metallic hand ghosts along the invisible map of Steve's body, running small circles repetitively at the base of his spine, to caress over the curve of his ass to the tops of his thighs, and back up again as if in a daydream. The demon's face is cradled between the blond's palms, their chests pressed tightly together with the faintest roll of hips that does nothing to cool the burning warmth gathering at the cadet's inner thighs.

“We should really stop,” Steve pants a little too breathlessly, though his body does nothing to free itself from the demon's touch. In fact, he can feel himself melting against Bucky's firm hands, just like how red-hot lava moulds its surrounding.

“No, we really shouldn't,” the dark class mumbles plainly against the blond's lips.

“ _Bucky.”_ The younger man whines the demon's name, but that only achieves arousing Bucky further.

“Let me touch you,” he whispers into the reddened tips of Steve's ears, the warm body connected to them shivering with an eagerness at the demon's affectionate command.“Let me make you feel good, my little warrior.”

“You know I'm weak to your words.”

“In a good way?” Bucky smirks, the tip of his nose nuzzling against the blond's jawline. As if every part of him needs to be constantly caressing the younger man's saccharine skin.

“In the best way,” Steve titters. It feels as if he's floating, protected by a dark warmth he yearns for.When Bucky touches him, it makes the cadet feel as if he is the only being in the whole world who matters to the demon. Akin to a precious jewel being put into the hands of someone who knows its worth. There's nothing else in the world that matters, just the glimmer of orange in a sea of black as their auras weave into a murky haze of shadows.Steve's cheeks redden with a forbidden heat as Bucky's fingers trace the hem of his briefs, ducking just under the elastic to stretch the thin material as he palms the porcelain-pale skin. With a single, cocked brow, the blond attempts to interrupt the demon's wandering- though he is far from successful. “What are you doing?”

“Touching you.” Bucky mischievously kisses the very corner of Steve's lips, almost like he's trying to appease the human.

“I'm not gonna let you finger me _here,”_ the blond replies adamantly. But all that gets him is a devilish grin in return to his stubbornness.

“Why not?”

“Because I don't want to.” Steve can only hope that the demon can't sense the uncertainty of that in his voice, or the way his thighs tremble in desire.

“I won't let them hear you.” Bucky hums against the side of his throat, right above the burning pulse, the depth of his voice sending little vibrations through the cadet's body. “You can be as loud as you need to be.”

“That's not what I meant.” The younger man couldn't possibly blush any shade darker, as if a crimson rose has dyed his cheeks. Fortunately for the blond, the demon finds it rather endearing.

“What is it, then?”

“There's just a time and place for everything.” Steve remains very aware of Bucky's metallic hand still on the flesh of his ass. Merely touching gently as he holds the cadet close to him, middle finger just for a second tracing his delicate rim before sliding his hand away entirely.

“Are you embarrassed?” The demon questions him brazenly, lacking any sort of grace.

“No!” The blonds exclaims, perhaps more defensively than he should have.

“You don't need to be. Every part of you is beautiful.” Bucky shifts the blond carefully onto his back, allowing him to analyse every pink patch of skin across the smaller man's cheeks and neck. This way, Steve cannot turn away or hide his expressions in the crook of the demon's shoulder. Especially as he leans in closer, eyes glossed over with a darkness that threatens to erase whatever silver light remains in his orbs. His voice is deep, huskily and drumming into the cadet's rising and falling chest. “And you are even more _zygu_ when you're moaning my name.”

“That's not funny,” Steve says quietly, turning his face away from the demon. Though in consequence, that action exposes the length of his throat to the dark class. Bucky leaves a firm kiss upon the exposed flesh, causing a gasp to break from the blond's lips as he nips at the skin to leave the smallest of red marks upon the ~~otherwise unmarred~~ faintly marred surface.

“It wasn't supposed to be.”

“I... I want to. Just not here, okay?”

“Whenever you're ready,” the demon whispers just as softly in reply. Searching for the blond's blue orbs in the shadows. When their gazes meet, Bucky breaks that contact to kiss plump lips. Within a moment, he can feel Steve's tongue pressing against his own as the younger man's legs slink around the demon's waist. To erase any space between them, the human wraps his arms along broad shoulders in an automatic effort that comes seemingly more natural than breathing.

Just as desperate passion begins to erupt within their chests, there's a sudden bolt of lightning that flashes from outside the window. Steve freezes as a crackling howl washes over the academy, the sky becoming nothing but grey clouds that gloom with sparks of electricity hidden deep within. Reacting to the human's movements, the demon stills as well. A second later, rain begins to trickle in minuscule particles until they swell to become droplets of water that hammer against the window.

“It's just a storm,” Bucky states, twisting to rest beside the smaller man who lay in his embrace.

“Yeah, I know.” The blond lowers his head to the demon's firm chest with a drawn-out sigh. It doesn't take long for his eyelids to flutter shut as the dark class soothingly trails a hand along his spine. “Night, Bucky.”

“Goodnight, my little warrior.”

If Steve didn't know any better, he would think the storm is a sign of something dreadful and terrifying coming their way. Then again, who's to say that the thundering roars aren't a warning?

        

For the late days of September, it is surprisingly warm. As if the sun refuses to believe that Autumn has approached and that in turn will inevitably lead to the frozen nights of winter. The heat makes droplets of salty sweat drip down the blond's spine, making the rough fabric of his shirt stick to the small of his back. The cadet would remove his grey jumper, but with pink, demon-imprinted marks dashed along his throat and collarbone, Steve would rather avoid any questions and deal with the uncomfortable heat.

The lack of any whirring noises apart from the ones being emitted from the computers signals the blond that the Knowledge Centre is absent in any air-conditioning. It makes every inhale stuffy and warm at the back of their throats. Though the dark class doesn't seem bothered at all by the weather. But he does seem rather irritated by the presence of a human that is not the little blond warrior.

“My demon keeps making this rumbling noise,” Sam suddenly interrupts the silence between them.

“A rumbling noise?” Steve looks up with raised brows from the computer to face the other cadet.

The Knowledge Centre is unsurprisingly empty (as per usual) except from the two cadets and their bonded demons. The overbearing white lights flicker occasionally, as if just to remind them that it isn't the most well-maintained building, if the dust particles under the keyboards aren't anything to go by.

“Yeah.” Leaning into the back of his chair with ease, the other cadet continues.“It'll just sit there like it's muttering to itself constantly.”

“Okay?” Steve replies slowly, unsure what his friend is expecting from him with the information.

“Well, I know _Bucky_ talks...and I know demon's aren't _supposed_ to. But I gave it some thought...” Sam folds his arms across his chest, a sign that he may feel embarrassed at his own conclusions. Like he might be wrong and the smaller man will berate him for it.

“And?” Steve urges him to go on.

“It's like they still understand, you know? It just makes me wonder if they're trying to say something, but just don't know how to.”

That's a dilemma Steve certainly didn't predict himself being thrown into. What exactly is he supposed to say? Reveal that demons have their own, unique and beautifully complex language that the blond has been studying with his bonded demon? Or completely disregard the idea and lie through grinding teeth.

“Redwing,” Bucky interjects nonchalantly.

Both of the humans look up at the dark class upon hearing his words.

“Redwing? What does that mean?” Sam scoffs, disinterested in whatever the demon has to say. Even if it was something important, he still wouldn't feel inclined to give the creature of darkness a chance. “Does your demon always say stupid things?”

“Sam!” The blond reprimands.

“The name of your demon, is Redwing. That's what he's been trying to tell you,” Bucky replies bluntly, a low growl vibrating in his chest like a dog on the verge of snapping its canines.

Sam's demon lets out a very different response from where he's nestled atop the desk in the form of a red falcon. The ends of his feathers glimmer purple in the artificial light as he shuffles his wings beside him. A faint, chirping sound that is very much akin to a purr erupts from the demon's grey, curved beak.

“So...demons other than you have names?”

Bucky gives the other cadet this expressionless, dull look that showcases exactly what the dark class thinks of the human- it certainly couldn't be put into polite words. Sam frowns in response before ignoring the demon altogether, casting his gaze back to the blond who continues to tap repetitively on the loose buttons of the keyboard.

Steve doesn't question his demon's choice to reveal that little bit of information to the other cadet. At the end of it all, the one who is more likely to suffer the consequences is Bucky himself. Thus, the dark class ensures that he stays in control of what the humans around him know about demons. In his heart, Steve knows that Bucky wouldn't ever put them in danger. That he wouldn't reveal anything that could cause harm to come their way. The dark class is tactical in that respect. He protects his own kind without truly realising it- for he keeps their secrets much like how Bucky keeps his own, far darker ones.

The harmless piece of information being out in the open (at least for the two humans) doesn't necessarily mean Bucky is unconcerned about what that means for demons. Instead, it shows that Bucky trusts both of them to keep it hidden from the rest of mankind as well. The demon trusts Sam. Not even a fraction as much as the dark class trusts Steve, but still, Bucky trusts the other cadet to keep certain pieces of knowledge to himself. It shows just how much the dark class trusts and cares for the little blond warrior, for he has extended his trust to those Steve has faith in the most.

“Can we go?” Sam huffs, shifting in his seat as if uncomfortable with Bucky's harsh stare, and how those eyes brighten whenever they land upon the smaller man's form.

“Soon. I'm just finishing off some research,” Steve informs him, only somewhat listening to the conversation. His attention is too engrossed in his research... or his attempts at research anyway. There's absolutely nothing about his demon's mark, nor of the silver star in any of the military's databases, at least none that Steve can access. It's just as if the blond is running circles over and over in a barren wasteland.

“ _Bucky_ sure doesn't like me,” Sam muses suddenly, the beginnings of sarcasm and teasing dripping from his words as he watches the bonded pair from his peripheral vision. “Then again, I'm not the one sucking his dick.”

“Hey!” The smaller man exclaims, lightly hitting the cadet on the shoulder with the back of his hand to scold him. “You don't exactly help matters, Sam.”

“Why? Am I hurtin' his feelings?” The other cadet goads, the corner of his eyes creasing as he contemplates the dark class who does nothing but ignore him.

“Just say his name properly and maybe you two stand a chance of getting along.” With a sigh, the younger man shakes his head. He's honestly probably asking for too much there, but he still wishes for the two of them to coincide in some sort of harmony- if at all possible. Though the more the human and demon interact, the less likely that scenario becomes.

“He's just a demon.” Sam shrugs defiantly. “I know he's powerful and all that. But at the end of the day he's only here because he's trapped.”

_That's not strictly true._

It's not as if Steve can just blurt that out though. As far as everyone is concerned, the blond has control of his demon- although the cadet often wonders if he has any control of Bucky's actions at all. Perhaps to a certain degree... but it's certainly not a one-sided arrangement.

“And he's gonna be stuck with us for a long time, so stop making things difficult,” The smaller man firmly warns. “That goes for you as well, Bucky. Don't scowl at Sam all the time.”

“I don't plan on making friends with him.”

“Who said I even want to be friends with you, _human?”_ Bucky growls at the other cadet _,_ like a beast whose peace had been disturbed. He's irritated and frustrated- desiring to get rid of the bothersome soldier who couldn't ever possibly understand his relationship with Steve. But all his attitude towards the other human earns him is a disappointed glare from the blond.

“Bucky.” Steve says the demon's name sternly. Just one long glance to command the demon in silence with blue, stubborn eyes. Bucky changes his footing, shoulders visibly relaxing as if his shadows are being tamed and calmed by the amber flecks that curl into his own aura.

“You're making a mistake with him, Steve,” the other cadet states. Akin to one saying the simplest declaration of pure fact.

The blond is only half-heartedly listening to his friend's concerns as his analytical eyes cast over black text upon the screen of his computer.

“What makes you believe that?”

“I just know that you're gonna... In time you'll just...” It's like Sam isn't sure how to put it into words... he's struggling trying to be careful and do no emotional harm, and yet there isn't any way to pleasantly express his thoughts.

“Just what?” Steve mumbles, fed up with the seemingly constant disapproval of his bonded demon.

“You're gonna end up with a broken heart.” Sam leans forward, elbow on the edge of the long desk. His expression... his worry is clear, just as it always is. “Or worse.”

“You're gonna end up with something broken in a minute if you don't-”

“Bucky. That's enough,” Steve interrupts the dark class before he can continue the viscous threat. Then, he turns his attention to his closest friend, his tone soft and pleading. “Sam, I appreciate your concern, but... I have to disagree with you.”

“Don't be naïve. There's only two endings to this. And both of them end up with you being hurt.” A bit of the blond's stubbornness seems to have rubbed off on the other cadet over the years, for Sam surely displays no willingness to back down from vocalising his troubled mind. And perhaps... his worst fears. “You're my best friend, Steve. I don't want to see that happen.”

“It won't,” Bucky declares, calmer than his previous interjections. There's a certainty to his tone that makes his words hard to ignore and disregard. “I'll always protect him, and I'll never leave his side.”

“Hooray for that,” Sam mutter sarcastically. But when he glances up at Bucky, the dark class is watching the blond who sits beside him. There's determination in those silver-flecked eyes that can be seen even from where Sam clenches his jaw at what he perceives in the depths of the demon's irises.

In that exact moment, where Sam witnesses a shared interaction between the bonded pair that is far more involved than erotic intentions... he realises that, it's not such a one-sided relationship at all. Both of their emotions run seemingly far deeper than the surface of sexual interactions. Their bond is like nothing anyone has ever seen, and so are their feelings for the other.

A commotion outside quickly disbands any lasting arguments, or turmoiling thoughts. The cadets rush to switch off the computers and abandon their seats in search of the squeaky exit.

“Come on then, Redwing,” Sam discreetly motions for his demon to follow. The blond says nothing to his friend about using the demon's name, even if it feels like a real step in the right direction. However small, at least it's something.

The yellow rays of sunlight reveal two army vehicles crawling up the make-shift pathway towards the dorms. Sharing a look of confusion, the two cadets and their demons steadily pursue the trucks. One of them undoubtedly contains demons, the symbols freshly painted on its sides a sure telltale sign. When they catch up with the vehicles, Fury is watching several soldiers jumped out the back of the first vehicle.

“They're here from Seattle academy for a training exercise,” Rhodey informs them as he approaches his fellow teammates.

“A training exercise? Why come here?” Sam enquires.

“I'm not sure. I think Fury wanted to check out the team. They're a year above us in training, but one of them is supposed to be a lot younger than us. Like, equivalent to a second year young,” he explains quietly to them as to not be overheard. “As far as I am aware, the kid skipped a few grades and got into the academy early, and now they've let him skip the third year too because he wasn't compatible enough with his old team. So they put him with a fourth year team about a year ago.”

Even through the thin crowd, Steve instantly picks out the younger cadet. There's an air of innocence to him. A smile not yet dulled by bloodshed. The brown hair with seemingly untameable twisted ends to one side of his forehead, frame his pale cheek bones and chocolate-coloured eyes brimming with excitement.

“So they're all graduating in June. Who told you this?” The blond asks, honestly finding the idea that someone so young would be let loose into the wilderness to help protect humanity... _disturbing._

“Clint. He's friendly with the fifth years and he found out that they'll be sharing their dorms with the Seattle team for a few days.”

“When was that decided?” Sam questions as he observes the cadets getting their bonded demons out of the other vehicle.

“Not long ago at all. I think the fifth years here were informed only yesterday. Apparently, it was a sudden decision made between Fury and someone named Coulson as far as I could gather.” Rhodey folds his arms, checking over his shoulder as if paranoid about being heard.

“Where's everyone else?” Steve voices upon realising the absence of the other _Avengers._

“In the canteen. I was actually on my way to get you both, I just had to put my demon in containment first.”

“Food actually sounds like a very good idea.” Sam grins in response, his features lighting up in glee at the mere prospect of satisfying his gently growling stomach.

The three cadets turn on their feet towards the dining hall, leaving the bustling bodies to settle down before they too will surely embrace the warmth of not-quite-tasteless food. The two demons wander after them, though the dark class remains considerable closer to his bonded human than the other creature. It gives the illusion that Bucky does nothing but obey, when in reality, his thoughts are of nothing but protecting.

They greet their teammates with smiling faces and inquisitive remarks about the academy's _'guests_ '. Chattering amongst themselves, it is Bruce who notices the Seattle cadets enter the heated room. But while the team gather their food and sit with their fifth year equals, the youngest member with _Parker_ inscribed into his uniform hesitates to join them. That's when Tony waves his hand at the stumbling cadet, beckoning him towards their table.

“Hey, take a seat, uh?” Tony drifts off, urging the brunet to continue.

“Peter,” he provides, sitting beside the broader man while his own bonded demon stands right beside him as she surveys the table. With curled brown locks reaching her collarbone, her olive skin radiates a certain youthful, and yet deadly glow. Her eyes are drawn close as if intrigued by her surroundings, although there is a critical look to her curious gaze.

Tony introduces the cadet to the rest of the _Avengers,_ who greet Peter in turn. Steve automatically finds himself liking the cadet- he's got the same wilfulness the blond has. But as they begin to discuss more about their respective academies and experiences, it becomes more obvious as to why Peter may have been allowed to skip a military year.

“I mean, it was crazy. When I first bonded with my demon, I couldn't believe that she was at such a high level,” Peter exclaims eagerly, his enthusiasm no match for the slightly older, more experienced cadets.

“Steve was in a similar situation to you, and we couldn't believe it ourselves,” Bruce comments.

“Really? Are you Steve Rogers, then? Was it level fifty-five your demon was predicated at when you first bonded? Mine was fifty-three.”

“Mhm, that's right.” Steve takes a sip of his water, anxious with the change in topic- he would much rather not discuss Bucky like some prized pet.

“Awesome. I mean, she's at level sixty-seven now. But, we're hoping to be able to get her to level seventy before graduation.” Peter takes a big bite of of his food, seemingly starving from the long journey. Though that doesn't stop him from diligently talking with food still in his mouth. “What level is your demon now?”

“Um.” The blond struggles to come up with simple words, torn between revealing the extent of Bucky's power, and changing the topic once more. Preferably anything that doesn't involve himself or the dark class.

“Yeah, that's a point. I can't remember you telling us your latest evaluation of your demon's level,” Clint states, far from accusingly,

However, Steve doesn't exactly feel as if he has a choice in that moment. With eyes upon him, he bows his head, fork busy twirling pasta so that he doesn't have to meet any of those wondering gazes as he speaks softly.

“Uh, level ninety-four...”

That's exactly what the blond didn't want... the awkward silence that rolled over their table at the mere mention of such a high level. A demon of surreal capabilities, and Steve is tied to him by an invisible rope. It's not as if Steve had been hiding Bucky's power, it's just that... he hadn't felt inclined to begin any conversations about it.

“Wow, that's incredible,” Peter earnestly confesses, eradicating the mist of tension and awkwardness with a lop-sided grin.

The chatting laced with gossip continues, although Sam sends the blond an expression Steve refuses to interpret. With the rattling of plates being tidied away around them, all the blond has to ease his apprehension are the metallic fingers that dance across his back where Bucky's body hides their secretive wandering.

Honestly, that's all Steve needs to make his anxieties dissipate until he no longer fears the path ahead of them.


	39. Darkness Can Take On The Most Unexpected Forms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Thirty-eight:  
> **Bucky informs Sam that his demon's name is Redwing.  
> ** The Avengers meet Peter, a cadet from the Seattle academy.  
> **Steve confessed Bucky's level to the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I finished writing chapter 41 at 4am this morning... now on to chapter 42! I only have three chapters left to write- such a strange thought! I'm both excited and nervous at the same time haha  
> Thank you all so, so much for your support! So many of you have brought smiles to my face and made me feel glad that I decided to upload this story, so thank you. <3
> 
> Note: next update is Wednesday 14th March (at the latest- my uni schedule has been messed up because of some major snowfall... so depending on lecture/laboratory timetabling, I may have more time to work on the story and if so, I will change the update to be 3/4 days earlier).

“Gods... he's so young.” Resting his chin upon achy knuckles, the blond sighs deeply at his desk, his faint reflection on the white of his computer screen.

Peter may be the best in his respective team, but he's also the most inexperienced. Pushing one's training forward is always a risky move, but considering how powerful Peter's demon is, it may have been the best one. The same could have happened with Steve. However, the _Avengers_ work so well as a unit, it would have been foolish to take the blond away from them. And it would have been just as foolish to graduate early when most of the team wouldn't have been ready for the fight ahead.

Steve angles his head to contemplate his own demon with a light-hearted smile, voice laced with an affectionate teasing.

“Though I guess it doesn't seem that much of a difference to you, considering your age.”

“Are you calling me old?” Bucky feigns offence, metallic hand against his chest in a rather human-like manner, earning him a pearly smile in return.

“As if I would.”

“I'm not opposed to dragging you away onto the bed with me,” Bucky jests. Although the blond knows that the demon is probably being more serious than he's letting on. After a while of not having the smaller man's form at the ends of his fingers, Bucky's instinct to hold and protect only grows stronger. Like a tree's branches desiring to reach further into the air in the hopes of catching more sunlight to give it more of that precious life. “When will you be done?”

“Impatient, are we?” The blond laughs softly.

“You've been on that device for hours,” Bucky groans disapprovingly.

“I know, I know. I'm sorry, I'll just finish this off.” That promise can only be taken so far, for the demon is more than aware of how Steve loses track of time when he's working. Organising files and writing up study notes and researching more advanced tactics... Often so absorbed in knowledge, that the blond hardly registers the moon taking the sun's place in the ever-changing sky.

“You said that eighty minutes ago.”

It's happened before, and the demon expects it to happen again... and again. But, Bucky does find it a rather charming quality.

“Sorry,” the cadet says apologetically.

“What for?” Bucky frowns just enough for the younger man to be able to perceive his confusion.

“For makin' you wait.”

It's almost as if Steve's words have some deeper meaning. Like a tidal wave crashing onto the shore, washing up only the smallest of particles from the surface, hinting at what may lie submerged deep down. Or like the tiny flame of a candle only illuminating a fraction of the darkness which depths are yet to be explored. A darkness that makes the cadet anxious, even though he knows that Bucky will take his hand and caress him so tenderly. His intimacy with the demon...Steve has every reason to be nervous, and he has every reason not to be.

“I don't mind at all.” No matter how words may be interpreted, Bucky's reply would have been the same regardless.

“You can go to sleep without me if you're tired,” Steve offers as he opens up another online document- not that he believes that he will find anything particularly useful in its content.

“I'm not tired,” the demon murmurs from the bed.

The blond laughs at that, those wondrous notes like a siren's song that the demon cannot ever resist the call of. Sometimes (well, more often than not) Bucky's behaviour could be compared to an almost childlike defiance. A refusal to make friends and 'play nice' is only given that edge of reality when Steve realises that his reasons and actions are entwined with death. That Bucky is a demon who shouldn't be trusted in any circumstances, for his emotions are surely not comparable to that of a human.

In all honesty, the dark class ~~would kill~~ has killed to get what he wants.

The one thing he desires more than anything, is a certain little blond warrior.

Steve should be terrified by that prospect, and yet... here he is... with his heart bursting with warmth.

“What?” Bucky meets the human's affectionate stare, although his own has that same brightness whenever he looks at the blond.

“Nothin'.” Steve grins to himself.

The younger man continues to type, ignoring the demon in favour of gathering knowledge. Absorbed in research articles, Steve hardly notices Bucky fidgeting on the bed- turning from his side, onto his back, only to sit up and lay down once more facing the blond. Metallic fingers flex and swirls of shadows curl like thick, misty tentacles at the corners of the room. Silver-flecked eyes close and reopen to track the flicker of orange amongst the unseen darkness. But when the demon continues to move every few minutes, that constant shuffling sound begs for the human's focus.

“What's wrong with you?”

“Nothin',” Bucky imitates, his mocking done with a teasing intention.

“Then stop moving like some child on a sugar rush,” the blond scolds without any real anger or annoyance drenching his words. But what Bucky says next... it makes the younger man freeze in place.

“ _I want you.”_

It's not sexual, even if Steve's cheeks burn because of those few words. The demon merely yearns for their skin to connect, to hold the blond within his arms and listen to the song of his beating heart that is just as entrancing as his voice.

“Alright, I'm done,” Steve announces as he shuts the lid of his laptop. Gently shuffling the papers neatly beside him on the desk, the blond comes to a stand. “Let me just get changed.”

“ _Steve,”_ Bucky whispers lowly into his ear, startling the cadet much to the demon's amusement. Although surprised by the sudden, pressing presence against him, the younger man shouldn't have expected anything but the silent movement from his demon. As if Bucky were one with the shadows. Perhaps he is. Perhaps more than Steve realises or wants to admit.

The blond gasps at the hands gripping onto his waist, the hold pulling his smaller form up and against the demon's broader, firmer one. Steve can only encircle his arms around Bucky's shoulders as the dark class leans forward to grab the back of the cadet's thighs. Letting out an embarrassing yelp, the blond can't do anything but allow the demon to lift him so that his feet tip-toe off of the ground to hook his legs at the demon's hips.

Moments later, Steve lands on the bed, his body bouncing once before the demon follows after him. Just a mere trail of kisses from the blond's exposed throat to the smoothness of his jaw, then to the plumpness of his lips. With each kiss, the demon tugs at a layer of the human's clothing before needing to lean back to remove the cadet's shirt. Leaving the younger man with the modesty of his underwear, the dark class kisses the very centre of that pinkened chest- right next to where the coolness of the silvery pendant soaks up the warmth emitted from the human.

The demon hums his contentedness, enveloping the smaller man in his arms, like how one might try to protect their most precious belonging. But, it's so much more than that, and it... it makes Steve's chest ache and his knees tremble and his mind cloud with confusion- for how can he admit to himself the true depth of his feelings?

Bucky makes him feel so safe, and yet he still doesn't feel secure enough in himself to voice what hasn't be said between them. Steve wonders if... if Bucky would _understand_ the words the blond could use to describe his (and hopefully his demon's) emotions. If they were in any other circumstance...

No.

In any other situation... Steve doesn't want to think of all the possibilities if they had met without the intention of a physical bond being formed between them.

The pull of sleep doesn't take long to drag the cadet's numbing mind into the darkness. Caressing his skin with lukewarm tendrils and a blank-state of solace. But, that tenderness soon causes a chill to run down his spine, just as of the September air outside the window is scratching down his back. The darkness has turned into the shadows Steve has come to fear, especially with those icy eyes that watch him from the distance, hissing and growling the same thing over and over again. Like a broken record Steve can't switch off.

_~~Weytz.~~ Winter._

Steve can't bring himself to contemplate its meaning, for as soon as he tries to step away from the creature, the shackle twisting around his wrist chains him to black sand that is bathed in red blood. That crimson liquid drips down the blond's jaw and throat while the metal taste bites at his tongue.

Words babble and blur in Steve's ears- he can't perceive much, but he knows what the creature is saying, for they have never said anything else. As the darkness nips at his ankles -the black granules beneath him digging into bare skin- his senses begin to dull. His eyesight has become a haze of dizziness... as if he's caught up inside of a tornado made of shadows. The blue orbs watching him seem closer one moment, only to vanish and reappear over his shoulder. Limbs becoming weak, Steve can only scrape his hands into the sand, the tiny particles wedging under his fingernails. Sticky with the blood he adds to whenever he coughs violently, stomach clenching and lungs begging for relief.

Left with no other option... no way of escaping the cruel unknown, Steve lets out a scream that echoes through the mist around him. The sound falls upon none who would care about the cry. Steve knows that's it just him and the concealed creature. No... a _demon._

What other being could possibly have so much hate in their gaze? What other being could radiate such terror throughout the human's flesh? Steve knows that it is a creature unlike one he has ever faced before. One that he surely cannot defeat... but submit to it's deadly aura.

Yet still, the blond has some fight left in him.

As Steve looks up at the creature with fierce determination, he's almost taken aback by the shining outline of feathered wings at his own sides. They blend with the darkness, but they are of a completely difference essence from the demon that watches him from within the shadows. They line his peripheral vision, coarse ends touching Steve's arms with every shallow breath he takes.

But before he can turn around to surely meet a protective gaze, the cadet clutches his chest when he feels a pool of thickening liquid at the back of his throat. His body aches with an unbelievable pain. The shackle at his wrist tightening as if it's cutting off circulation to his left fingertips. Tears weeping from his eyes make the wings appear as incomprehensible dots, rather than the long strands of black silk that the feathers are.

Steve can feel his surroundings changing, or rather, he can feel his body breaking. His lungs can't seem to get enough air, and his heart does nothing but bash against his ribcage, threatening to snap bones. He can no longer hold himself up. The cadet slumps to the floor, head wet with the blood that is hot against his chilled skin.

And then... then there's a light.

An actual _light_ that cuts through the shadows. Just a fraction of the sun's rays, at least that's what it seems like. Stretching out his right arm towards it, Steve can depict the gruesome mix of black sand and blood that clots between the creases of his hand.

But then suddenly, that light is blocked off from the human's view as a pair of blue eyes surrounded by a cloak of shadows swarm in front of it. His arm falls to the ground, unable to muster the strength to reach out in hopes of escape. All Steve can do, is wait for his eyelids to flutter shut as he says to himself...

_It's only a dream._

        

The bus jolts over a pothole as it slowly makes its way down the busy roads, causing the blond to tilt slightly in his seat. The traffic is rather heavy as they pass humongous building complexes, for despite the ice, everyone seems eager to get home to their families for the holidays no matter the costs. But as the vehicle huffs closer to Brooklyn, the cars appear to thin out just as the snow flakes grow larger as they flutter to the littered-ground. Tiny fragments of winter that make Steve more thankful as the bus comes to a stuttered stop. For he's getting closer to the warmth of his mother's relieved hugs; she is only more and more grateful each time her son greets her with light still in his eyes.

Tugging his jumper more tightly around his body, the cadet shifts his bag more comfortably onto his shoulder as he makes his way down the aisle and off of the bus. The _Avengers_ have found that it works better this way: saving up the majority of their free days to request a longer period of time away from the academy during the winter holidays. It gives them time to travel and settle, without seemingly eating away at the time they have left to spend with their families.

Steve thinks it's strange that... the next Christmas that they have, will be the last one as them being cadets. After that, they'll be true soldiers. Then, it'll just be skill and good fortune if they make it back home for any occasion at all. Alive, that is.

Watching his footing on the uneven paths, the blond follows its cracked slabs down the quiet street. Although some stores are still open, most of the local-run shops have already closed before the snow-storm hits them. The gloomy clouds trap the sun's rays behind their dark outline, allowing the shadows to crawl untamed across the walkway.

Hands clasped in front of his mouth, Steve breaths on them in an attempt to fight away the frost in his bones as he passes an alleyway. The bins overflowing with black bags the blond can only hope is nothing but rubbish; split and spewing cans and plastic that occasionally catch on the wind to be thrown onto the pavements and roads. Atop the brick wall, a black cat watches the cadet go past, as if intrigued by the prospect that the human may have food untarnished by discarded needles.

There is no one else wandering the same path as the cadet, and only the occasional car or white van passes him as snowflakes collect in soft strands. Like diamonds caught in layers of gold. The breeze is slowly picking up with each prolonged moment in the cold, causing the wind to whistle and howl across the rooftops and alleyways. But, a deep, drawn-out call catches the blond's attention. Steve's boots pause against the frosty ground beneath him as he turns to see a large black cat trotting up along the pavement behind him.

Approaching the blond without even the slightest bit of caution, the creature lets out another cry as if to make conversation with the human. With a smile, Steve crouches down while he offers his hand to the feline who instantly begins to rub their cheek against the cold, slender digits.

“Hey, there...” Steve coos, allowing the cat to press his face to the blond's palm. “You hungry?”

Almost as if in reply, a meow escapes past the razor-sharp canines.

A deep purr vibrates from the cat as Steve scratches behind its ear, feeling the silky fur beneath his fingertips. Soft yet coarse, like when one runs their hand through fresh, emerald grass. Snowflakes dot its dark pelt, seemingly shining brightly on the fur that is as black as the deepest crevices. Its round eyes gleam like a reflection of the silver moon as they stare up at the blond.

“Was that a yes?” The cat merely continues to rub against him, moving to slide along the cadet's bent knees as a car drives carefully past them. “You must be cold out here. Why don't you go back home?”

The feline meows in apparent protest as the idea. Steve briefly wonders if the cat is a stray -regardless of how friendly they may be- until it jumps to place its two front paws onto the human's thigh. Staring up at the blond, the cat's eyes have altered their hue. The grey has faded into mostly a vibrant blue with deeper depths. But, silver flecks still remain.

Steve must be going insane.

“Are you... No. No. I've gone crazy.” Suddenly standing, the movement causes the cat to let out a shout of disapproval.“I gotta go,” the blond explains before internally cringing at his own awkwardness at speaking to an animal. But as he takes one step back, the cat takes one forward as if they are dancing. Even as Steve turns down the street, tiny footsteps follow him even as he reaches the corner.

With a frown, and a sigh only really for himself, the cadet halts to contemplate the cat who stops in sync with the human.

Steve _must_ be going insane.

And yet... he can't help but have this _feeling._

“Come here, then,” he beckons to the creature. Just as he opens out his arms to the cat, the feline leans back on its haunches before leaping into the blond's hold. Steve keeps the cat securely pressed against his chest, heavier than he had expected. The cadet can't prevent the laugh that leaves him as the cat licks under his jaw in rough strokes. “Stop that.”

With a creature whose coat reflects the night, Steve continues the walk to the apartment. His fingers instinctively brush against the forest-smelling fur, just as the cat rubs his head appreciatively under the cadet's chin.

As they grow nearer to the apartment complex, Steve ducks into the alleyway just before it. Their forms are concealed by shadows cast by the building, even as Steve bends down to place the cat onto the snowy floor.

“Please don't make me believe I'm insane,” Steve mutters, giving the gentle feline one last pat on the head before hauling himself up again. When the cat merely looks up with curiosity (and, perhaps, amusement) at the human, Steve sighs, turning his back to the creature.

It feels like hours past, when in fact, only a moment goes by until there are hands around his waist and lips at the side of his throat. Steve glances over his shoulder to find his demon's eyes watching him with nothing but affection swelling every blue and silver pigment.

Now _this..._ this feels _right._

At least as far as the human is concerned.

Softly, and full of a tenderness neither ever expected... they kiss. Sweetly, as if that can override the earth's bitterness around them. Steve's fingers find and grip the thick fabric of the red hoodie that is almost too tight for the demon's muscles, not quite registering Bucky's steady movements until his back is pressed against the wall. With the demon's arms shielding him in, masking him in darkness, a shiver runs through the cadet's nerves when Bucky nips gently at his lower lip. The spark that erupts between them forces a moan from the younger man's throat.

But the cold is bitter around them, and no matter how warm his body gets when Bucky touches him, he would rather the interaction be in the security of his own home, and not some grotesque alleyway.

“Come on, it's time to go home.” Steve takes the demon's hand with a chaste smile, leading him away from the darkness, and into the white light of Brooklyn streets.

        

“Steve?”

The blond merely raises a brow in the mirror as he continues to brush his teeth despite the demon's interruption. The bathroom is rather small, and it feels even more so with Bucky's form almost constantly pressing against his own. Especially in the tight space of the shower- though in that case, Steve hadn't minded at all.

“Yesterday, when you said, it was time for us to go home... What did you mean?”

“Is that why you were fidgeting last night?” Steve says through minty breath, spitting out the white paste into the sink basin to be instantly washed away by water.

The demon is silent. Embarrassed, perhaps? Uncertain of himself, despite rarely showing such a thing, Steve has learned to pick up on the tiny gestures and lack of words to interpret the demon's thoughts. However, at times, Bucky has an expression the blond can never quite decipher. Like some ancient tomb stone, Steve has no idea as to what it may mean. But it is undoubtedly nothing good. At least, the cadet doesn't think it can be anything good. Not when their bond vibrates in that agitated way as if the ghosts of Bucky's past are pulling at the strings.

“Oh, Bucky...” Steve turns around to face his demon, taking metallic and flesh hand into his smaller, slender fingers. He brings them to his chest, hovering above a beating heart that swells with his affections. Ensuring Bucky's eyes are locked with his own, the cadet speaks softly. “My home, is your home. This, here, in this apartment. _This is my home._ And that means this is your home too.”

“My home?” That's a rather foreign concept for the demon. Constantly moving around with no intentions of staying -for reasons Steve is unsure of- to then settle down beside someone...

“Mhmm. If you want to consider it your home?”

“Wherever you are,” the demon replies simply, and yet which such sincerity the blond can see it within silver-flecked orbs.

“Huh?” Steve's head turns slightly in confusion.

“My home is wherever you are.”

Steve feels the heat rise to his pale cheeks at the clarification, and yet Bucky remains as stoic and composed as ever.

“Gods, you always know what to say to me.” The blond's shoulders slump forward so that his forehead buries in the demon's chest. Bucky chuckles at the action, unlacing their fingers so that his arms can wrap around the slimmer form to pull him closer.

“Not always.”

“When it counts. When it means something... you say the right thing,” Steve admits, ever so quietly as if abashed at his own confession. “Makes me feel better about how I feel towards you. Doesn't make me seem as much of an idiot.” Even if Bucky's words could easily be lies, Steve hopes they're not. He _knows_ deep in his core that they're not anything but the truth.

“I think you're very intelligent,” the demon remarks, metallic fingertips entangling with the ends of golden strands at the back of the younger man's neck.

“My feelings for you would suggests otherwise. At least to other people.”

“Your feelings, hm?” There's that edge of teasing to the demon's tone, forcing the blond to look up, lips close enough to feel warmth caressing his face.

“What?”

Bucky merely smirks devilishly at him, evoking a small roll of the eyes from the cadet in half-hearted retaliation. But before Steve's gaze can truly leave the demon's sight, metallic fingers catch underneath his chin, lifting the smaller man's face back up. There's that brief moment of breathless serenity, before their lips press sweetly together in an innocent kiss.

“Shall we go watch that film with your mother now?” Bucky mutters against the blond's lips, not quite wanting to pull completely away just yet.

“Sounds good to me.” Even with that said, the pair are rather reluctant to turn away from each other. Regardless of the fact that they'll only be moving to curl up together on the sofa.

With an almost achy sigh, the blond tugs at the collar of Bucky's jumper, ensuring that the soft fabric nestles close enough to the demon's throat to hide the strip of black fabric around it.

If Steve's mother knew...

If she knew that Bucky is a demon, and not the human soldier she believes him to be...

Distinguishing the thought, like blowing out a flickering candle, the blond leads the dark class into the lounge to greet the softly-singing woman as she bathes in the glow of the morning light that filters into the kitchen. With soapy hands and the tarnished fronts of porcelain plates cleaned, blonde hair dangles and seemingly floats to the side as she glances at the pair over her shoulder.

Despite it being Christmas-eve, the reality is that work still calls for Sarah. There's only so many holidays they can take off, especially at such an icy time of the year where car accidents increase and drunks do the most ridiculous, dangerous of things. The accident and emergency department can only take in so many casualties, and with a majority of their staff being juniors, it is important for those with more experience to be present while their capacity limits are put to the test. So although Sarah yearns to spend every moment with her son, she isn't one to abandon the work she loves. Luckily for her, Steve understands that.

So, just like now, when they have time together they take advantage of that. Being in one another's company and talking about everything and nothing at all is pure bliss. Steve isn't sure whether Bucky is fed up of old Christmas film re-runs, but he does know that the demon seems more content next to the blond on the small couch than anywhere at the academy.

However, it's almost a shock to Steve's body. Going from fast-paced days to be able to relax and forget about missions and the threat that ultimately comes from demons... The blond can never quite transition properly. He's always that little bit tense, even with Bucky's gentle touches. But, that's not to say the cadet isn't relieved that he doesn't have to make his way back to the academy until New Years. It's just that, he can't quite comprehend that he has so much time to pretend that his and Bucky's relationship is _normal_. Even if, perhaps, it's not quite enough time. Then again, it may be too much time to contemplate his emotions.

Sometimes, one needs to trust their instincts, and not second guess every minuscule detail.

As soon as the film finishes in the early afternoon -along with their mugs of hot chocolate- Sarah proceeds to layer herself in thick cotton in an effort to protect herself from the icy wind thrashing against the windows. She leaves the bonded pair on the sofa, Bucky's arm shamelessly slung around the blond's waist. Waving goodbye to them with smile, she leaves them alone in the coolness of the apartment.

With the intention of doing nothing more than flick the channels, the two of them stay like that until Sarah gets home that evening. She discovers them asleep when she creeps silently in, the news quietly displaying a broadcast about a devastating demon attack in London; Big Ben transformed into mere rubble. It's terrifying. At least in Sarah's perspective. Being taught all her life that demons are viscous creatures, it's attacks like the one on the television that make the public realise just how true it is.

Demons should not be trusted.

They will be the end of humanity, if given the slightest chance.

        

On Christmas day, with Sarah having left for work at sunrise, the blond rifles through the cupboards in search of ingredients. The dark class observes him from the corner of the kitchen, both curious and yet confused. But the blond had commanded him to stay put, and so the demon obeys. But the order to not find trouble doesn't stop Bucky from eyeing the smooth curve of Steve's ass as he bends down to pull out a mixing bowl.

The blond raises a brow at the demon when he catches sight of the amorous stare. But instead of being embarrassed, the dark class smirks until the younger man's cheeks become tainted with pink. Steve continues to feel Bucky's gaze sliding across his skin- though he refuses to let that be a distraction from the task he's set himself. As a surprise for his mother, the cadet had decided to make her a cake.

It eventually takes him two goes, one very charred cake and a quick search for a better recipe to create an acceptable dessert. And if anything, the demon got an observation lesson in baking, much to Bucky's amusement. Even with the cadet's mistakes, the dark class had watched him with extreme interest- fascinated by the cooking process.

But not only does the cake get Bucky's approval as he presses butter-cream kisses against the blond's lips, it also gets Sarah's. The darkened evening sky almost seemed brighter with her smile, regardless of her tired eyes. Staying awake and filling up on the sweet dessert until gone midnight, when sleep finally beckons to them, it's almost too easy to fall into the realm of dreams.

Steve forces himself to get up with his mother so see her off in the late morning light, before he slumps back into his demon's heated embrace. It's almost as if the restlessness of his infrequent nightmares have taken their toll on the blond's body. For now his limbs ache and his mind wishes for nothing but insignificant visions he will surely forget the moment his eyes open.

It's almost as if time is moving too quickly.

That is until, just for a little while, time seems to stop completely.

Steve awakens to the glow of the sun at its peak in the sky, his eyes fluttering open to find his demon watching him seemingly with purpose. Bucky's metallic thumb graces the cadet's cheekbone as if to silently greet him in the afternoon light. With a sluggish groan, the blond turns his face into the touch until the demon's fingers slide through his hair.

“Have you been awake for long?”

“Since you woke up this morning.” Bucky plants a kiss to the bridge of the blond's nose, before leaving one upon his lips. The demon's metallic hand glides to the nape of Steve's neck before tracing down small vertebrae for his palm to rest at the younger man's waist. Just where his shirt has ridden up in his sleep to expose the pale skin. Bucky's caress sends sparks into the blond's cells, filling him with an electricity in the silence of the apartment.

“You could have got up to watch TV, you didn't have to wait for me,” Steve murmurs, beginning to stretch out his limbs in an effort to shake off the lingering remains of peaceful dreams. Although the dark class is doing pretty well at dispelling any lasting thoughts of rest.

The demon doesn't reply to that, just merely continues to stare at the human who sits up on the bed, the covers shifting to ruffle at his hips. With a final yawn, the cadet slips from underneath the covers and the demon's hold to pick up one of the neatly folded towels on the desk. Pausing with the material in his grasp, he gnaws at his bottom lip in contemplation. Bucky does nothing but gaze at him with darkened eyes, the heat of which Steve can feel along the tiny hairs of his skin. From the tips of his ears to his waist, his thighs, he can feel the demon's stare trailing down his form. As if claiming the human with eyes only.

“I'm gonna go take a shower,” the blond informs him, already turning to go out the bedroom door before giving the demon even the slightest notion that he could join him. But just as a precaution, the cadet gives him a hesitant command. “Wait here for me.”

The door shuts before Bucky has the chance to respond. But the younger man's actions leave the demon smirking from the bed. Listening to the light thud of the blond's steps down the hallway, he waits for the _click_ of the bathroom lock and _whoosh_ of cascading water before lifting the covers from his skin.

Rolling his shoulders, the dark class pushes aside the curtain to look out into the alleyway beneath. The ground is covered in a sheet of white, only every so often trash peeks out from the snow blanket to infect the otherwise beautiful sight. Satisfied by the empty view, the demon draws the curtain back into its rightful place- though the sun still penetrates through the thin material.

Bucky can sense every being in the whole of Brooklyn... and even further. But there's just one human who stands out amongst every other beating heart.

Returning to the bed, the dark class settles down atop the fresh-scented covers. Although the scent of lavender fills his nose, the fabric has a distinct chemical taste that irritates the demon's throat with each breath. Still, it's not so bad whenever a certain little warrior is beside him.

Not bothering to check the time, the demon straightens out his metallic arm above him, watching the silver plates shine and reflect in the dim light. Clenching his fingers into a fist, a sigh deflates from the demon's mouth before allowing his arm to fall back to rest on his stomach.

Eventually, Bucky hears the water being cut off in the pipes, and only a little while after that, does he perceive the pitter-patter of bare feet getting closer. The door slides open enough to allow the blond to slip through, droplets of water still dripping from the ends of his hair. The exact moment the bedroom door shuts, their eyes meet, expressing what doesn't need to be put into words.

There's a fleecy towel hanging onto the cadet's hips, the dark material contrasting the pale hue of his skin and the pendant that rests at his chest between two pink nubs. Bucky's stare follows the cadet's movements as he reaches the end of the bed, pulling at the tangled ends of the towel to force the fabric loose. The demon wants nothing more than to reach out and touch him, but fortunately enough for the dark class, Steve drops the towel on the edge of the bed before pressing his knees onto the mattress. Leaning onto his palms, the blond crawls up the demon's body with a sway of his hips.

Utterly unabashed with a confidence the cadet knows wont last long, his erratic heart betrays his boldness, and he knows the demon can hear the anxious pulsations through his veins. A single bead of water streams down the length of his neck, catching on his collarbone to splatter onto Bucky's bare chest. Straddling the demon, the blond only slightly presses their lips together to tease the dark class.

“Are you trying to tempt me?” Bucky questions the blond, gently gripping the cadet's hips, holding him in place without any intention of letting him free.

“Maybe I'm a seducer,” the blond breathes with a shy, and yet triumphant smile.

“Hm, maybe,” the demon hums, too lost in the younger man's intoxicating scent- it's becoming sweeter with Steve's arousal.

The blond finally leans in those couple more centimetres, his fingers digging into brown roots to nudge the demon into position so that their kiss can deepen effortlessly. Their auras collide and crash, intermixing into a sea of black with flutters of orange akin to the wings of a monarch butterfly.

“I want to...Um,” Steve's cheeks flush as if roses were blooming across his skin, spreading to the top of his chest and the very tips of his ears. He can barely get his stuttered words out fast enough. “If... If you want to as well, we can-”

“Yes,” the demon interrupts his nervousness with a single word of assurance. His right arm slides over the sharpness of Steve's hip to the softness of his inner thigh, exactly where the skin is most akin to silk. Soft like petals and warm to the touch as if the sun's rays are trapped underneath the surface.

“I didn't even finish what I was gonna say.” It's not a complaint. If anything, the smaller man finds it just ever-so-slightly amusing.

“You didn't need to.” The demon smiles, giving a quick peck to Steve's pliant lips. Smoothing over the faint curve of Steve's inner thigh, the demon reaches his hand further until his fingertips rub against the blond's hole. As soon as those warm fingers touch the sensitive skin, a shiver courses through the cadet's body.

“Under the bed,” the human says faintly as Bucky peppers kisses along his jawline.

“Hm?”

“There's lubricant under the bed,” the younger man clarifies.

Bucky releases his hold of the cadet to twist to stretch for the bottle while the blond shifts from atop the demon to rest his back against the mattress that has become warm with the demon's radiating heat. Within seconds, the clear bottle lands next to the cadet as Bucky's shadow bathes him while he stands to remove his own underwear. The clothing crumples to the floor as the bed dips once again under the demon's weight.

Tenderly separating the blond's joined knees with a push of his metallic hand, the dark class settles between slender legs. Although realising exactly what the demon has in mind, he still lets out a gasp that turns into a broken moan as Bucky kisses and sucks a red mark onto his inner thigh. Nipping the porcelain skin, each wet pressure of the demon's mouth upon him has a whine escaping the blond's throat. Bucky's actions has sparks fizzing in the blond's limbs and electricity gathering in his heavily rising and falling chest. That pleasure vibrates through their bond almost viciously, and those quivers elicit a growl from deep within the demon's own chest.

“ _Bucky...”_ The blond moans the demon's name, already half-hard.

The dark class sits back, taking the lubricant bottle in hand before gently, and quite simply, giving the blond a command.

“Lie on your stomach.”

Steve turns to do so, but before his sharp hipbones can press against the mattress, Bucky slips a pillow underneath to support him. The blond looks over his shoulder once before folding his arms to rest his head upon them, a reddened flush gathering at his cheeks to the nape of his neck. Bucky kisses the pink area, nothing but affection and adoration guiding his impulsiveness.

There's the pop of the cap, and just a moment later, Bucky is circling one slick finger around his rim. The blond automatically tenses, only for the demon's metallic hand to rub along his spine, spreading a warmth that eradicates the anxiety from his flesh. The demon is always so tender with him, almost as if he's afraid Steve will break. That part of him never fails to make Steve smile... and it makes him certain that  _this_ isn't a mistake. It can't be. And even if somehow it is, it's not one the human can ever see himself regretting.

The younger man gasps as Bucky's finger presses slowly past the ring of muscle to stroke against his walls. The pace is almost leisurely, as if the demon has all the time in the world to make the human become completely undone. And yet Bucky is so tender with his kisses along the blond's shoulder blades, as if Steve is the most precious thing to him and nothing could ever change that.

The smaller man angles his head to the side in a silent plea for the demon's lips upon his own as a second finger explores his depths- a yearning that Bucky responds to tenfold. With the demon's tongue swiping at his lower lip, their kiss deepens despite the blond's need to breathe. Air just doesn't seem that important when his emotions are swelling with the heat inside of him.

Intoxicating. Steve's scent is nothing but intoxicating. It's almost difficult for the demon to keep his mind clear of the haze, but that's not to say that he doesn't react to it at all. The cadet's siren-like moans in his ears make the demon _ache._ He wants to touch him, every part of him. Wants to hold the blond in his arms and make those whines louder. He wants to _cherish_ him. For Steve is like no one he's ever met before.

However, the slam of the front door has the two breaking apart.

Bucky's fingers immediately leave the blond's tight heat- though admittedly, a little reluctantly.

“Fuck,” Steve swears under his breath, startled by the sudden interruption and the echo of his mother's voice from the entryway. “She's back early.”

Sarah catching them doing such...intimate interactions... is one thing. But if she sees Bucky's collar, she will instantly know he's a demon. And Steve cannot risk her reacting badly to it, for that could put both the cadet and his demon in danger.

“Put on some clothes,” Steve commands as he struggles to stand. His knees weak, and almost collapsing under him if it wasn't for the demon who catches him in time.

Biting his bottom lip, the blond wipes himself quickly with the towel that had been abandoned at the end of the bed before slipping into underwear and a t-shirt (by the size, it's probably one of Bucky's) in record time. Opening the door just slightly to peek into the hallway, the cadet calls out to his mother.

“Hey, Ma. We'll be right out in a second. Just changing.”

Sarah shouts her reply from the kitchen, though her words fall on deaf ears as the blond swiftly closes the door again. His back sloping against its surface, the younger man gazes up at his demon. The pair exchange a brief look before breaking out into laughter.

The night, and even the next day, Steve finds it hard to look his mother in the eye. And yet Bucky's confidence remains without a fragment missing. But eventually, the embarrassment goes, and Steve is left with lingering thoughts.

Had fate been trying to tell him not to go any further with Bucky? To not give himself entirely to the demon? Or had it merely been bad timing? Steve isn't sure which one is more likely.

But regardless of that, time had seemed to stop. The world had stilled as if they had all of eternity together. Just like that. Drowning in the beginnings of pleasure and an emotion contained and unsaid, but of which lies deep in their cores.

The thud of the door had started the clock back up again. Each tick-tock like a warning as reality seeks to consume them.

The bonded pair spend the next few days with Sarah and (on one occasion) Bonnie. The blond had scolded the dark class at night for his clear disinterest and abruptness with the young woman. But the demon had merely kissed his lips and held him close while they slept through the night. Those days Sarah is free from work, the blond thinks dearly of them. For on New Years eve, with champagne glasses in hand, it feels like something is coming.

Getting closer and dulling the road ahead of them. Like a virus infecting cells until the host is utterly overwhelmed and turns black with death.

When travelling back to the Academy, Steve just knows... that he's running straight into the path of danger.


	40. Let Your Shadows Hold Me Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Thirty-nine:  
> **Bucky had transformed into a cat, finding Steve on the way to the apartment.  
> **Sarah had interrupted their attempts at... ahem... Yeah. :) Poor boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this? An early update?! Well, I finished writing chapter 42 quicker than I expected so now I'm working on chapter 43 (ahh, two chapters left to write, this is insane). Consequently, I'm expecting the story to be completely uploaded a week earlier than originally planned. I've also already made some headway on Bucky's backstory, but more on that at a later date.
> 
> Also, guess who is suffering with people playing music loudly again ahah ha... Anyone would think I live above a night club. Regardless, I seriously hope you guys enjoy this chapter, it's incredibly important. In numerous ways...

“Happy Birthday, Steve!”

The blond blushes with embarrassment as Sarah places a candle-lit cake in front of him at the dining table. The dark class smiles from beside him, their hands joined together in secret as the flame reflects in their eyes.

The _Avengers_ are just about to graduate into their fifth, and final year at the New York Military Academy. However, Steve had requested time off to spend his birthday at home with his mother for a week, instead of having the Christmas off- especially knowing full well that Sarah would have to work then. The academy has become more strict with the length of time cadets are allowed to request off. Steve isn't sure why, but it would be a good guess to assume it's because of all the increase in multiple demons attacking single areas.

“Make a wish,” Sarah urges him.

Steve purses his lips in thought for a moment-

_What exactly should he wish for? Survival? Forever and a day with Bucky at his side? For a time where he can openly show his affections for his demon? To be able to extinguish and dissolve the darkness of Bucky's past?_

-before finally blowing out the candle in one short burst.

“What did you wish for?”

_For when the time inevitably comes... whether tomorrow or in seventy years... to die in Bucky's arms._

“If I tell you that, Ma, it might not come true,” the blond jests, gaze wandering to meet the demon's who watches him in adoration just like always.

While Sarah cuts the cake, Steve smiles at his watch that displays messages from his teammates. Though both Sam and Tony had already sent him birthday greetings only a few minutes past midnight. But while the rest of the _Avengers_ are still at the academy (except for Wanda and Tony, who also took the time off for personal reasons) it's not as if Steve is missing out on much. Their lectures have finished, leaving them mainly completing low-case missions instead. The rest of the time is dedicated to arms training, weapon manifestation and team-tactics exercises.

“Steve, sweetie, do you mind going down to collect the parcel that arrived today,” Sarah asks as she clears away the plates with particles of spongy dessert stuck to their surfaces with white icing. “It's for you, anyway.”

“Sure, Ma.” Steve stands from the table with the demon. Casting the dark class a look of _'behave'_ before slipping his shoes on. The blond glances over his shoulder once again until the apartment door shuts behind him with a _click_ \- the demon's own stare tracking him like an owl the entire time.

“Mind if I talk with you, James?” Sarah gestures for Bucky to sit at the dining table with her.

“Not at all,” the demon smiles, pulling out the chair he had just left. Bucky instinctively reads her body language. She's nervous. Although the demon only has to sniff the air and listen to the sound of her heart beating in her rib cage to realise that.

It doesn't appear as an interrogation to the demon... but perhaps it is one.

The dark class is unsure of what the purpose of the forthcoming conversation is. Still, he'll listen, for Steve would berate him for doing otherwise. And he shall reply with honesty...at least as truthful as one can be without giving away their disguise. 

It's strange pretending to be human. It's almost amusing. At least in the beginning. Now, Bucky is torn between desiring to be human -to openly claim Steve for himself- and accepting being one of his own kind, so that he has the immense power to protect the blond within his shadows. 

“Did you know that Steve was sick as a child?”

“Yes,” the demon says calmly. His voice a fraction softer than his usual tone, for the dark class has picked up on the sensitive nature of the topic.

“He was so poorly, that the doctors didn't think he would survive.” Sarah clutches her hands in her lap, back against the chair despite her shoulders being hunched forward. “But, he's kept on going all these years.... When his father died... We weren't sure if Steve's treatment would even work.”

Bucky waits out the moment of silence for her to continue as she fiddles with her fingers. As if she's trying to put her feelings into words; ones that she hasn't expressed before.

“I was so grateful that he got better, much better. And I- I was distraught when he said he wanted to join the military. So much so, that I almost didn't want him to get into the academy,” Sarah admits regretfully. Bucky can see the anguish in the creases of her eyes, and the trembling of her bottom lip. “I hoped that he wouldn't be able to form a bond with a demon. Such creatures... They're unpredictable. And that means he's always be in danger. You understand that, don't you?”

“He's a strong warrior. He's killed demons far more powerful than a cadet his age should be able to handle. Steve isn't someone who needs protecting. He's someone who needs to protect others.”

“Is that really what you think?” It's not an accusation, just a need for reassurance and confirmation.

“Yes. Although that is the case, I still understand why you wish to protect him,” Bucky confesses.

“You want to do the same thing,” Sarah murmurs quietly, as if a thought is currently turning the gears in her brain.

“He's important to me. I want to protect him. I _will_ protect him. But, he doesn't need it at all.”

Both human and demon are silent after that. Their declarations hanging in the air between them almost akin to a clearing mist. But still, regardless of Bucky's reassurance, the woman still fidgets in her chair like a child waiting for the right moment to speak.

The dark class can hear Steve's footsteps amongst the other wandering bodies as the cadet approaches the staircase to begin the trek back up. Someone calls out the blond's name, and the demon cocks his head to listen more intently when Sarah turns to address him, bringing his attention back to the woman.

“May I ask you something personal, James?”

“Of course.” The demon leans back against the chair, posture relaxed with his ankles crossed under the table.

“Have you ever been in a serious relationship? You are older than my son, and I would expect you to have been.” Sarah's enquiry is accompanied by a stern expression- a kind of hardness to her eyes.

“No, I haven't.”

Seemingly approving -if only by some stretch- of Bucky's answer, her features soften just that little bit.

“You know, it's not just demons I feel like I need to protect Steve from,” Sarah discloses. Although she's cautious in what she says, the demon can sense the urgency to them. Like an uncertainty drifting in her mind. “I just want to make sure that his heart isn't going to get hurt.”

Bucky recalls Sam saying something rather similar. But it's something the demon doesn't quite understand. He has no reason to bring any pain upon the blond, and yet others seem to expect him to do so. Bucky desires nothing but to adore the young warrior. To cause him hurt would be the opposite of such wishes. The mere notion that anyone would think the demon intends to harm Steve in anyway (emotional or physical) displeases the dark class greatly.

“I don't plan on hurting him, ma'am.” His sincerity is easily perceived by the woman in the silver-flecks of his eyes and the burning affection in his gaze at a single thought of the cadet.

“You've been together for how many years now? Three years? I'm unsure when you started dating.”

“It's gone by quickly.” Is all the demon replies, averting his stare. He's unsure of what would be deemed an appropriate response to such questions. _Dating_ is not a term the dark class has grasped. There is still so much for Bucky to learn about human interactions and the need to define everything.

“Do you love him?”

“I-”

The demon's response is cut short as the apartment door swings open to reveal the blond warrior who instantly seizes the demon's attention with blue eyes of wonder.

“Hey, Ma, there were two packages,” Steve calls out, said items tucked against his chest.

Sarah catches the demon's all-too-devoted gaze, and she can only smile at what she sees before standing up to approach her son. The blond raises his brows slightly from over his mother's shoulders while she inspects the parcels, as if to ask what they had talked about. But they both know that it'll be a conversation for later.

        

“Mmm, I'm not gonna ever get enough of you kissin' me,” the younger man murmurs. The light of a new day caresses their forms from where they sit nestled together on the couch. Bucky could pepper him with soft kisses, or press lingering, desperate ones upon his lips, but neither would ever be too much for the blond. Rather, they leave them both yearning for something more. “But, you know that's not going to get you out of telling me what you and my mother were talkin' about yesterday.”

“She was just looking out for you... That is the phrase, yes?”

“Yeah, I guess...”

Bucky cups his cheek with a smirk, feeling the smaller man sigh in content into the palm of his metallic hand as slender fingers interlace over the demon's upon his skin. The ocean-blue of Steve's eyes reflect the demon's silver-flecked ones, as if one were looking at the sea scattered with the night's stars.

When Bucky leans in ever so closer to press his lips sweetly against Steve's plump ones, the cadet wraps his arms around his demon's neck to erase the distance for him.

“You know, we have the whole afternoon to ourselves,” the blond reveals, voice dripping seduction as he kisses the demon chastely once again, before taking the initiative to gently pull the demon's lower lip between his teeth for just a moment.

“Mmm,” the dark class hums at that.

“Do you want to, um,” Steve whispers, only to trail off. Clearing his throat, while his blushing face refuses to acknowledge Bucky's confident stare. “Last time we were...”

“Interrupted by your mother,” the dark class offers.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Bad timing I guess.” Steve laughs, albeit slightly awkwardly as the memory plays over in his mind like some comedic television drama.

The demon's metallic fingers shift to guide the blond's chin up, their eyes instantly locking together. Steve is sure that the dark class can hear his breath hitch in his throat as the flustered blemishes of his cheeks redden.

“I'll make you feel so good, Steve. If you want me to.”

“And what about you?” The younger man is sure that he must be mumbling, and yet the demon appears to perceive him perfectly. “Do you want to still, uh, have sex with me?”

“I want you in every way,” the dark class replies earnestly, sending sparks of heat down the length of the blond's spine. “I want to make you feel good... But I can wait if you're not ready.”

“No, I want to,” the younger man blurts out quickly. “I'm just nervous.”

“You don't need to be, I'll take care of you.” Bucky's hand brushes through silky, golden strands, following the soft path to the back of Steve's neck.

Is he ready? Truly? Last time he was willing to go all the way with the demon. But now... Steve supposes it would be a lie to say that he hasn't been anticipating it ever since the thought of sex with Bucky first crossed his mind; and that feels like a life time ago. In all honesty, he's only been making excuses to himself.

He wants to. _Gods..._ he really does.

It just feels as if he would be admitting something he's spent so long trying to deny or just ignore- an emotion that is forbidden, at least towards a demon.

So, yes, he's ready to give another part of himself to Bucky, and willing to accept the demon in a way he never thought he would.

“Okay, just... give me ten minutes or somethin?” It's said as a question, but the demon knows it isn't really one, just that spirals of anxiety are twisting in the blond's stomach and making his words sound uncertain.

“I'm sure I can wait a little longer-”

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Steve's gaze snaps to his watch, the screen bright and flashing red consecutively.Hauling himself up from the demon's side, the blond opens up the notification of the sudden message from Fury. But what he reads... it makes every fibre of his being turn cold. As if he's been sucked under water beneath a layer of ice.

_**A group of high level demons have been identified in a desert 300 miles from New York City. The exact location will be revealed upon your immediate return to the academy. There will be a military vehicle to collect soldiers on leave at 9am tomorrow, 6 th July. If you receive this message, that means your team has been chosen to join the mission to destroy the demons.** _

_**This is a huge military operation. It is unlikely all teams will complete the mission with all of their members. Say your goodbyes to your families. Those who refuse the mission will be shot under government authority.** _

Steve immediately brings up the contacts on his teammates, sending them a quick text for an immediate group call. Hurrying to the computer, he almost trips over the puzzled demon's legs in the process. While the blond sets up the computer, the dark class sits beside the human on the floor; legs crossed with a nonchalant expression plastered upon his face. Allowing the demon to conceal himself from the computer's camera, while Still being near the younger man. Opening the video-calling software, the cadet enters his military details and one by one, the faces of his friends appear on the screen. Tony is the first to speak.

“We all got that message, right?”

“Well, it did mention the whole team had been chosen,” Clint replies sarcastically, before thinking better of his attitude as confusion takes over. “But, why? I don't under-”

“It's serious, that's what it means,” Rhodey interjects. “They don't have enough soldiers, and so they're resorting to getting cadets involved.”

“How many demons do you think there are? High level ones, that is,” Bruce asks, pulling on the sleeve of his jacket in a sign of apprehension easing beneath his skin.

“Maybe a couple dozen, if it's become such a big issue. Clearly they're desperate,” Wanda offers.

“So it's gonna be pretty bad.” Tony sighs, face briefly resting in the palms of his hands before shrugging and visibly shifting in his chair.

“I'm thinking it's going to turn into a blood bath,” Bruce declares, more to himself than anyone else.

“Then let's hope that blood will be yellow, pink and blue,” Rhodey says optimistically, only for Clint to scoff disapprovingly in reply.

“You can't seriously think we're going to make it out of this. _Alive._ ”

“We're the best team the academy had ever seen. We've got a dark class demon and a great captain. We stand a better chance than most,” Sam assures them confidently. Like he truly believes every word he utters through the crackling microphone.

“We're not even supposed to be doing missions like this yet! We haven't even graduated,” Tony remarks. The kind of mission Fury is requesting of them... it's certainly far above what the cadets had been expecting from their fifth year at the academy. Dealing with such demons is a situation far deadlier than what they are trained for. And yet, they are being forced into circumstances they shouldn't be in until at least another five years. It's almost as if they are being thrown to the wolves. Or in this case, demons.

“Doesn't sound like we exactly have a choice in this.” Wanda frowns, rereading the message on her own watch again and again as if she can't quite bring herself to believe it's true.

“It's like they're giving us the option of death or _death.”_ Tony shakes his head, unsure of what to make of his own analysis.

“Death by demon, or death by a bullet... I know which one sounds more appealing,” Clint muses, albeit rather sombrely.

“That's not funny,” Rhodey reprimands.

“I wasn't joking.”

“Hey,” the blond beckons to them firmly. His voice automatically bringing silence amongst his teammates as they listen to him. “This is what we've been training for. And Sam is right, our chances are damn good compared to some of the other teams.” Steve needs to convince them that they have a chance at coming out of the mission whole with beating hearts. Regardless of the fact that the odds aren't exactly in their favour. “If we work together, just as we have before, there's no reason why we can't get through this. It's just another mission.”

        

Unbeknown to the blond, his words had filled his teammates with hope. But he seemingly couldn't say anything to comfort his mother when he confesses the urgent mission to her. The colour had drained from her face as she had began to sob into her son's shoulder. With the full awareness that Steve needs to be back at the military academy by lunch tomorrow, the cadet had wrapped his arms tightly around his mother. Tears had streamed down her cheeks, staining her make-up without a second thought as she murmured over and over _'you must come back to me. You must come back to me alive'._ Steve's resolve had eventually disintegrated, and he allowed his eyes to water as he attempted to comfort her, making promises he doesn't know if he can keep.

“I'm not going to let anything happen to you,” Bucky claims as he washes the younger man's hair. Fingers gently pulling at golden strands as the warm water washes over their naked forms. Long ago, such a scene would have made Steve squirm and blush in embarrassment and discomfort. Now, he relishes in the soothing touch. As if Bucky isn't a creature who could rip him apart or snap his neck without lifting a finger.

“But, what if...” Steve goes silent as he contemplates the very worse thing that could happen to them. When he relays them to the demon, Bucky merely dismisses such anxious thoughts. “What if _Loki_ is there, or the _Kyosw?”_

“I do not sense them.” Suds cleared from silky locks, the demon's arms encase the blond, whose head rests against Bucky's chest. Metallic hand running delicately along the hills of vertebrae, the younger man only sinks further into the demon's embrace.“You do not need to worry, my little warrior.”

Steve believes him. Whole-heartedly. Especially when he gazes up to become absorbed in silver-flecks. He's practically memorised where each one lies in the blue of Bucky's eyes that once looked cold, and now are filled with heat and a... passion? Adoration? Devotion?

It doesn't really matter.

Steve can _feel_ it. It makes his body ache and crave something more. For Bucky's tender caresses and firm lips. For the demon's warmth and the doting of his arms. For shared touches that evoke nothing but the deepest heat, and the tantalising electricity that will surely spark throughout their bodies.

There was a swirl of hesitancy last time... But now...

“Can you just give me ten minutes alone?”

“Are you sure?” A flash of concern interrupts the demon's calmness before he notices how Steve nibbles at his bottom lip.

The blond nods once, and with a final kiss upon the younger man's cheek, the dark class reluctantly leaves the shower. Wrapping a towel loosely around his waist, before quietly shutting the door, the demon casts a glance over his shoulder towards the cadet.

“I'll wait for you.”

Bucky keeps to his word in the serenity of the cadet's room; ruffling the towel through soaked hair until it doesn't quite drip down his spine. Eager for Steve's return, he settles atop the bed with his arms propped under his neck and the towel draped modestly over his hips to his thighs. The streets are oddly quiet; not a single beating heart wanders the crooked pavements in the darkness of the night. If the demon listens intently, he can hear Sarah's soft snores and he can only smile thinking that the little warrior has that very same habit. It's a rather endearing quality, not that Bucky would ever really admit such a thing.

Steve eventually emerges, slipping through the door in briefs and a t-shirt that reaches the tops of smooth thighs. Immediately slumping into the chair at his desk, the cadet picks up his watch to display the message he had received from Fury. With a sigh, the blond gently places the tech on the scratched top of the desk.

It keeps suddenly dawning on him. The impending feeling of walking along an icy road paved with traps. Bucky's reassurances can only do so much until the anxiety twitching at the back of his mind shoves a new disturbing idea forth.

What if he loses his teammates?

What if they lose this war?

What if he loses Bucky?

“The chance of us surviving this...” Steve can't even bring himself to say it.

“Is good,” the demon encourages him.

“You seem confident.” Swivelling around to face the demon, he's (almost) surprised to find the towel fallen from Bucky's naked form, exposing the demon's muscular physique as he rests with one knee bent, his metallic arm propping him up.

Does the demon have no shame? Clearly not. And it does nothing but make the younger man blush. Like roses blooming underneath the surface of his skin.

“Well, you have me,” Bucky smirks, before permitting his seriousness to entwine into his tone. “I won't allow any harm to be brought upon you.”

Standing with the smallest, shyest of smiles, the blond approaches the demon with a patter of his footsteps against the cold floor. Bucky instantly shifts on the bed, allowing the younger man to sit beside him on the edge of the old mattress that dips under the weight.

“If I can help it... I won't allow anyone to hurt you either.”

Their confessions don't say as much as the feelings they radiate.

“Mmm,” Bucky hums, leaning in, his warm breath ghosting the cadet's face before deciding to kiss the blond lightly. Steve presses back without a second thought, looping his arms around the demon's shoulders to feel the ever-so-slightly damp skin under his fingertips.

Twisting his body so that his hands can search for and grasp the backs of the blond's thighs, the demon effortlessly lifts him more firmly into the centre of the mattress- all the while, their kisses become deeper. More _intense_ with a flick of tongue and parted lips.

Desperate. Needy. Like reaching out for a life-line. For Bucky, the little warrior is exactly that.

The demon rolls his hips against the fabric of Steve's underwear, before he taps once on the cadet's thigh in a silent command the cadet is all too eager to obey. The blond instinctively lifts his own hips for Bucky to remove the offending fabric, sliding it down his legs and onto the floor before carefully hauling the cadet's shirt over his head. The gentle grinding becomes more rough with the circling of Bucky's hips, the connection of their bare skin evoking little hiccup-moans to leave the blond's wet lips.

_Bucky._

It feels so good, but it's not enough.

_Bucky._

It's never enough.

“ _Bucky.”_ Steve is a garbled mess, moaning his demon's name over and over like a song on repeat, despite how breathless the kiss makes him. His whines only change into a gasp when Bucky presses a tender finger to his rim.

The room feels that much warmer with Bucky's shadows surrounding them like a soft cloak. Steve's cock is already wet with pre-come. He's so desperate and he doesn't understand why. Well, maybe that isn't strictly true... Bucky makes him feel like nothing else matters. That he could lose himself in this amazing pleasure, and it wouldn't bear any consequences. That he could let his guard down completely, and allow the demon to lead the way, knowing full well that Bucky would never hurt him. Not like this: when their bond is so strong, pounding away as their auras blend like paint on a palette.

“Steve,” Bucky coos the cadet's name, as if asking for permission as his finger circles the blond's pinkened rim. Not pressing, just touching the sensitive skin lightly.

His chest feels tight, but in the best way. He knows Bucky feels it too. A three worded confession inside their cores, but which neither of them quite voice. Almost as if it's a secret. One that when pushed out into the open, could change the world.

“Please...” The blond whines, staring into silver-flecked eyes with such sincerity, surely the whole world would believe it. “...I want this.”

“Do you have-” Bucky can barely get the words out, for they are just as eager as each other.

“Under the-”

“Got it.”

Steve doesn't register the mass of shadows around the bottle as it materialises beside his naked form. He's too busy concentrating on the feel of the demon's lips upon his thigh. Sucking little bruises onto his skin and leaving a trail of red marks as if the demon is marking the smaller man as his own with each gentle pull of skin between teeth. Or perhaps... treasuring him with an instinct the dark class cannot control.

The _pop_ of the cap makes a shiver run throughout the blond's limbs, expectant. Although he know it's only ecstasy he's waiting for, he still tenses subtly. Bucky's warm breath ghosts his face, and when Steve's eyes close, the lust he feels is mixed with an intimacy like no other. He can feel it in their bond, and he knows that he's made the right choice. That his emotions have lead him down a road of something rather beautiful. Who knew darkness held such charm? And those silver-flecked eyes... it's almost as if they're staring into the deepest part of himself.

No one understands the blond like Bucky does; he knows that he could never be with anyone else but his demon. Chance or fate, it doesn't matter. It's never mattered. His feelings are real, just as he knows Bucky's are. There's nothing complex about it, really. Steve doesn't quite know why he was making it out to be. To follows one's instincts, can often lead to something one would otherwise never experience.

When he feels this way, surely the rest of the world is a galaxy he no longer belongs in.

~~_What if._ ~~

Hovering over to kiss plump lips, the demon's body is nestled between parted thighs, slick fingers at the blond's opening before a single digit presses in. There's a slight discomfort, but it's far from painful. Even when a second finger pushes past the tight ring of muscle, just to the first knuckle, then further with each grinding motion. There's neither pain nor pressure, just the feel of his demon's tentative rubbing inside his warmth.But when Bucky angles his fingertips up just so-

“ _Ah!”_

With the demon running gentle, repetitive circles around that same area, the cadet can't possibly contain his moans at the little sparks of pleasure that swell with each firm stroke. His hands grip onto the rough fabric of the duvet that scratches against his skin, while Bucky nuzzles delicately against the white surface of his throat. Almost as if he's afraid that the blond will shatter under him into thousands of glimmering fragments.

Steve's hips automatically lift just that little bit, but it's enough to feel Bucky's hardened cock against the silky expanse of his inner thigh. A small growl vibrates in the demon's chest when the younger man whines his name so sweetly.

“ _Bucky.”_

“That feel good?” The dark class asks, voice thick and throaty as he watches the blond's parted lips and the way his legs quiver as if little sparks are flaring inside each cell.

“Yes.” Neck arched back against the pillow, in between his breathless words, pearly whites dig into a reddened, lower lip. _“Fuck...Yes.”_

“You're so beautiful,” Bucky praises, metallic hand smoothing over the blond's stomach, gripping one sharp hipbone before journeying higher to feel the faint bumps of a ribcage. So delicate, that they would surely snap in two if the demon pressed too forcefully... but he touches the younger man like how one would a precious jewel.

“ _Bucky.”_ A high-pitched, yet muffled moan leaves his lips when a silver thumb circles the pendant at his chest, before tracing one pert nipple. Even more so when the demon leans in to kiss and suck the other into the wetness of his mouth. _“Bucky.”_

“Mmm, Steve,” the demons hums, intoxicated with the sweet scent of the younger man's arousal that hangs like a spreading mist in the air around them. Entangling with unseen shadows and permeating into the darkest corners of the room like flowers flourishing inside the deepest cave.

“I want to kiss you,” the blond solicits desperately, his voice trembling with conviction.

Those words seem to _snap_ something inside the demon, for his fingers leave the cadet's heat in an instant. But before the younger man can utter any whined noise of complaint, Bucky's lips find his own, just as Steve's legs wrap around the demon's hips to pull their bodies closer.

After a steadily-passing moment, Bucky's fingers return to his hole, slick with added lube as he slips two fingers into his tight warmth again. Pulling out tortuously slow, before gradually inserting a third. That slight stretch breaks their kiss when the cadet gasps, but that breathlessness soon turns into a loud moan as the pain is worked away by shadows. As if his body is relaxing automatically to the demon's touch... as if Bucky is healing his muscles as he caresses the most sensitive part of him.

Ocean blue eyes are closed in bliss, lashes fluttering as Bucky repeatedly rubs that spot inside of him, fingers pulling apart with a slight twist and caress along his walls. The blond's nails glide up to dig into the expanse of the demon's broad back; planting little crescent shapes upon muscular shoulder blades that heal as soon as his fingertips slide a little further down.

“ _Bucky.”_

“ _Shh,_ you can come if you want to,” the demon soothes, searching the cadet's expression. When vibrant orbs look up at him in the dim light, they have never seemed so dark with entangled lust. The smaller man's murmured reply is everything the demon has ever desired to be uttered from such silky, pink lips and it makes his aching cock twitch.

“No, I-I want _you.”_

Smiling down at the blond, he kisses him with as much passion as one would with the person most dear to them... before tearing himself away. Clicking the translucent cap of the lubricant, the demon pools some of the sticky gel into his palm before tossing the bottle away. Steve watches in desire as the demon stroke his cock, spreading the lubricant over the head and down the thick shaft.

The younger man's legs instinctively parting just that little bit more, the demon gently shifts the blond's thighs more firmly onto his hips before his metallic arm glides under his slim waist in support. His other hand presses the tip of his cock against Steve's opening, hesitating a mere second to analyse the cadet's response before breeching his tight, tender warmth. Slowly, ever so slowly, going deeper with each one of the blond's shaky exhales.

“Mmm, you feel so good,” the demon praises against the reddened shell of the younger man's ear. He can sense the blond's breaths against his face; his smaller form bathing in the shadow cast by the dark class as he leans close enough so that their lips are almost touching. Just a fraction apart as the demon sinks further into his soft heat.

“Ah, Bucky!” Steve calls out, his voice rough as the demon's cock at last rests fully inside him.

“You look so beautiful,” Bucky sighs deeply, nothing but honest as his forehead drops onto the smaller man's shoulder.

Electricity brimming from his core, casting out like vines all over his body, Steve can only whine his demon's name when he's unable to form any other words. At least ones that would make sense as his fingertips grip into Bucky's back, his face buried in the sheltered crook of the demon's neck.

The feel of Bucky so close to him, their bodies moulding and melting together in the most intense pleasure has Steve burning with an all-consuming heat. A small, deep moan echoes in the blond's ear, which only makes his legs tighten around the demon, as if that could pull him that much more impossibly closer into his depths.

Steve honestly thought it would hurt -even if just a little- but his body is more content than anything with Bucky being so close. Akin to a puzzle that's been completed. His mind is clear, like a forest at night when the moon shines brightest and his feelings for the demon have never been more obvious to him.

“You can move now, I'm okay,” Steve breathes, fingers gracing the softest ends of Bucky's hair that curl at the nape of his neck. His head flops back against the thin pillow, eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

Steve listens to the demon's deep, echoing inhales when he doesn't respond; movements still halted despite the desire to do otherwise. The blond gently calls out to him, tucking strands of dark hair behind his ear before whispering his concern.

“Bucky? Are you okay? What's wrong?”

“My wings...” is all the demon grunts, but Steve understands perfectly.

“Mm, let them out, it's alright.” Fingers running through Bucky's lightly damp hair, the inky strands tickle the blond's nose as he breathes in the musky scent.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” With a murmur of a kiss to the demon's temple, it's all the incentive the dark class needs.

A mere few seconds later, and the breeze of Bucky's wings cascades over him, like black shadows ripping from the demon's spine only for the soft feathers to rub against their thighs and calves. The demon sighs heavily in relief, face nestled into the cadet's throat, breathing him in.

Steve's nails scrape across the flesh of the demon's back when the demon's cock drags along his insides until just the head remains. The cadet can't contain the gasps that breaks free, his back arching against the mattress when Bucky thrusts just a little too harshly, before the demon seemingly regains his composure.

Bucky is gentle. He is tender. He is everything Steve knew he would be. The demon keeps to an almost agonizingly slow pace, picking up on every one of the blond's twitches and tightening muscles. Every quivering breath and blissed-out moan. Every now and then, black feathers ruffle against their bare skin as the demon's hips press against the flesh of the younger man's thighs with every thrust.

Mewling the demon's name over and over with each steady roll and grind of his hips, he can feel electricity igniting inside of him. Burning his flesh with the beginnings of ecstasy. And when Bucky hits that spot inside of him, his moans only grow louder.

“Ah!” Steve's blush extends down his chest as Bucky's skin slides against his own, the movement providing just enough friction to Steve's own cock trapped between their stomachs. “Ah! Bucky... _Bucky_...” It feels as if he's giving a final piece of himself to the demon. As if he's coming completely undone and the rest of the world has vanished to only leave their connected hearts, and the bond that ties them together.

“Me too... Steve,” Bucky breathes against the younger man's throat, just above where he has subconsciously marked little pink blemishes into the pale skin. The demon's movements become a fraction faster as pleasure coils and blooms inside of them. Their bond seemingly pulsating in synchrony with the throbbing of their cocks.

“Kiss me,” the blond begs him, full of an ingrained _yearning._

How can Bucky possibly resist that?

As the demon presses their lips together in a desperate kiss that emits nothing but their longing for the other, Steve can feel his muscles beginning to shudder, just as Bucky can feel him tightening around his aching cock.

The blond's heightened moans turn into a scream only dulled by the demon's mouth upon his own. Warm streaks of his release become a sticky mess on his abdomen just as his back arches towards Bucky in his ecstasy.

The sensation of Steve's nails tearing along his back... the drumming vibrations running through their bond...it's too much to bear. The demon is overwhelmed and his wings spread out beside him; uncontrolled, ignoring the clatter in the background as he quickly pulls back from the younger man's heat. His own come painting Steve's pink-dusted thighs with hues of white in steady bursts.

They're both breathless, panting in an effort to clear the cloud of pleasure swirling in their minds. Steve reaches to cup the demon's face between his palms, bringing him back down to kiss him with a slow-burning passion. The last droplets of Bucky's come splatter onto the cadet's stomach, mixing with the younger man's own warm release.

“Bucky, I-” Steve doesn't quite know why he can't get the words out. Perhaps because he fears that the demon wouldn't understand them.

Bucky looks down at him with a curiosity, wings settling against his back, not quite hiding the scratch marks that heal swiftly on his shoulder blades.

“That felt amazing,” the blond giggles, gazing up into irises that have turned completely silver.

“Yeah?” The demon gently leans their foreheads together, absorbed in the scent of their combined ecstasy that permeates the air around their forms. The shadows at the far corners of the room twitch and spiral like black smoke, as if dancing in time with their emotions.

“Yeah,” Steve confirms with a smile, before his expression falls just slightly as he becomes more serious. “Bucky...”

“Mmm?” The dark class hums in content as he listens to the siren-lullaby that is the blond's sweet voice.

“You complete me,” he confesses, his blushing body still calming down and yet he can't stop himself from speaking, despite his racing heart that is like a drum in his chest. “I'm... I like every part of you, I just want you to know that.” Thumb pad smoothing over the demon's jaw, the slight stubble there feels rough to touch. But it's a far better alternative to interlacing his own fingers together in a display of his nervousness. “Tonight, um, I don't want to do this with anyone else. I-”

But the demon understands him perfectly. Of course he does, for they feel the very same way. It's like even the most deadly force couldn't tear apart what they have. The emotions they share and the undying affections that have rooted themselves in their pulsing hearts... no darkness could possibly destroy that.

“There's no one for me but you,” Bucky admits, planting chaste kisses to the blond's lips. “I'm never going to let you go. I promised you that, my little warrior.”

Lost for words, Steve can only kiss him back in earnest, though his radiant smile makes that a little difficult. But what they have, something so deep and complex surely couldn't ever be described in a simple sentence.

The world may be a cruel place. Full of darkness and destruction... where chaos reigns. But in their hearts, is a warmth even the brightest star cannot match. And it only shines brighter in each other's arms.


	41. Your Shadows Are Different to Another's Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Forty:  
> **Steve celebrated his birthday at home, just before graduating into their fifth and final year at the academy.  
> **Steve and the other Avengers were notified of a mission close enough to New York to be a major threat.  
> **Steve and Bucky had sex for the first time. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 41! Ahh! Just finishing writing chapter 43, then I'll be writing the final chapter.  
> I had some personal issues that affected the amount of writing I usually do, but I've managed to stay mostly on track- but apologies for the late replies to comments >.< I'm on Easter break now, so I'll be able to answer comments (hopefully) much more quickly now...although the internet here is...unreliable at the moment, but I'm trying to sort that out (it actually cut off when I first tried uploading this D:)

Later that very same night, the demon awakens to the sound of a pen creating small grooves upon paper, the little indents quickly filling with streams of jet-black ink that dries instantly. Like a droplet of water isolated in the desert sun. Heaving his weight onto his metallic forearm, Bucky perceives the blond writing at the desk, completely entranced by a need to mar words permanently into his own blue journal.

“What are you doing?” The dark class grumbles, only to receive silence in response. Hunched shoulders, with his feet planted firmly on the floor, with only a small curved lamp lighting the desk, the demon knows that the cadet is hypnotised by whatever he's briskly writing. Almost as if the fate of the world rests upon the existence of the text. _“Steve.”_

Frowning, the demon unravels himself from the covers to approach the younger man like a big cat stalking its prey. His movements are graceful, and the quiet steps go unnoticed until Bucky's metallic hand gently clasps the red fabric atop the cadet's shoulder. The demon doesn't mind the blond wearing his clothes at all; for it bathes the smaller man with his scent. Like some indirect marking that satisfies the demon's primal instincts.

Steve automatically jolts at Bucky's touch, closing his journal with a slap like he'd just been burned. With wide, blue eyes, the cadet looks up at the demon who (unmoved) stares down at the blond's abnormal reaction with a raised brow.

“I called you. Come back to bed, it's late,” the demon says softly before gesturing to the journal. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I just... I won't be long,” Steve promises, waiting for the demon to walk away before continuing. Bucky does so with a reluctance, watching the cadet and listening to the sound of a clock ticking until his arms are eventually wrapped around a smaller form in darkness.

When the blond's alarm rings a few hours later, they awaken to each other's smiles and chaste kisses. The cadet is quiet, as if contemplating something that requires all of his attention. It isn't until Bucky's metallic thumb rubs across his bottom lip that Steve is beckoned away from the furthest reaches of his mind.

“How do you feel?”

“I thought I would ache... But I feel... good,” Steve admits, not able to contain his grin. Not that he would want to.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Smiling softly, as if in a blissful dream, in reality the blond is recalling the memories of last night. How good Bucky had made him feel. How sweet he had made his ecstasy. Gentle and tender... Steve feels even closer to his demon. Not necessarily physically -though certainly that too- but something far more complex. As if finally gaining an understanding of the depths of his feelings for Bucky while he experienced something with the demon he never wishes to with any other being. Bucky has a part of him no one else has, and it pulsates along their bond like a tidal waves crashing through their chests. “Hey-”

“We'll make it through this,” the demon assures him. Like it's a mere fact, and perhaps it is.

“When you say it like that, I can't help but believe you.”

“You don't have to be afraid.” Bucky pulls the blond closer into the warmth of his arms, his soothing caresses running up and down the path of the younger man's vertebrae.

“I'm not... I'm just... worried humanity has gotten into a war we can't possibly win.” With a sigh, the blond lowers his head onto the demon's chest, one arm draped over the demon's waist while his adjacent leg slips between Bucky's. “Even if we complete this mission, there's still going to be more. Maybe even worse ones. When exactly will it all end?”

“I don't have the answer to that, my little warrior.”

“Would it make any difference if we killed the _Kyosw?”_ It's really just a thought spoken out loud, but Bucky seems to consider it anyway.

The demon is silent for several moments... perhaps even hiding something until he seems to think better of keeping it to himself.

“I think... it would be a start,” the dark class begins slowly. “If the _Kyosw_ was destroyed... those who obey him would disband.”

“Would that give us an advantage then?”

“Yes. There probably wouldn't be as many demons in this realm.”

“What makes you think that?” The blond shifts himself in search of silver-flecked orbs.

“Because he orders many demons to go into your world.”

“Why? Is he looking for something other than you?” Steve queries, careful in his stubbornness. He knows not to push the demon too far, although Bucky will always remind him when it is too much.

“Something, yes,” the dark class reveals.

“And that something is?” The blond presses, the pendant digging ever so slightly into his flesh as he leans against the demon who gives a rather simple reply.

“I cannot say.”

Steve's mouth opens slightly as if to argue, only to allow his lips to fall shut. Bucky's words make him wonder though, but tension visibly leaves the demon's shoulders when the cadet drops the subject as one might drop a pebble into a river. Landing at the stony bottom or catching in the current... Steve's curiosity still remains regardless of whether he allows it to wash to the far corners of his mind, or stay nagging at its forefront until its plucked forth and spoken.

In all honesty, Steve thinks it might be better that he doesn't know.

What one doesn't know... can't hurt.

And now, in this moment, the blond wishes that he hadn't told his mother about the mission. He regrets the decision so much, for Sarah is barely able to hold back her tears. She clings to him as they hug goodbye, not letting go even as the blond attempts to pull away, before wrapping his arms around his mother once more. There's only so much the cadet can say before his words seem meaningless. Repetitive.

Nothing can truly ease Sarah's mind, for the past weighs heavily upon her shoulders. Like she's carrying around an enormous weight constantly; one which no one can share the burden of. To become a widow in such a vicious way... of course she can't fight back the urge to want to protect her only son. For she knows just how real the threat is- how deadly and inhuman demons can be.

“Take care of him for me,” Sarah pleads to the demon, eyes red and shining as she watches them walk out the door.

“Always,” Bucky assures her.

“I'll call you as soon as the mission is over, Ma,” Steve promises, waving goodbye to her as the bonded pair descend down the creaky stairs.

“Are you crying?” The demon asks, inquisitive.

“No.” Steve wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, sniffling slightly before taking a deep breath. Just as one does when about to race into a great battle.

With a smile, the dark class nudges the cadet's hand until their fingers entwine together. Bucky doesn't mutter a word, but it's not needed. Steve knows...

He knows that this is the right thing to do.

        

The academy is in a state of chaos.

Complete. Utter. Chaos.

Four soldiers have already knocked the cadet's shoulder, and he's only been off the truck a couple minutes. Although it feels as busy and bustling as the streets of New York, the tone is very different. Steve can sense it: the panic coursing through their veins. The adrenaline pumping through theirs hearts with the need to _survive._

“Rogers, Stark, Maximoff.”

The three cadets turn to the stern, booming voice above the noise of the vehicles and the shouts of commands around them.

“Get changed and get your demons. Then go to the weapon stock building to get your combat gear with the rest of your team.” Fury instructs them, his stare harsh. “We leave in an hour. Make sure you have your eyepieces, they may be useful.”

“Yes, sir!” The cadets reply, instantly heading in the direction of the dorms as they bolt between soldiers carrying supplies and loading pieces of demon-tech into the rumbling trucks.

Within fifteen minutes, Steve is opening the containment door to reveal his demon, and a second after that, they are in each other's arms. Holding on tightly before letting go with a kiss that neither ever want to end.

“It's noisy outside,” Bucky murmurs, entangling their fingers before Steve pulls back to lead the demon out of the containment facilities.

“Yeah, everyone's kinda freaking out a bit.”

“Are we leaving immediately?” The demon asks, head cocking to the side as he perceives all the shouts the younger man doesn't hear.

“Got to get our personal supplies first,” Steve explains, only to earn himself a puzzled look from the dark class. “Like the fire-resistant jackets. I don't know if they're going to issue us guns or not.”

They do.

And that fact is _terrifying._ Because it means the military is preparing to use their very last resources in their single goal of executing the demons.

It feels strange in the cadet's grasp. As if he's not supposed to have it outside of the fire-arms floor. The weapon straps tightly to his thigh, the black metal matching his slim jacket like a reminder that everything could go wrong.

“Have I ever told you that you look good in black?” Bucky whispers to him as the cadet zips up his aura-seeing eyepiece into the left pocket of his jacket.

“Hmm, no. I don't think so,” Steve jests quietly, checking the straps of the gun around his camouflage-patterned trousers before picking up his brown rucksack.

“Well, you look good in black.”

“You don't look so bad yourself.” The blond smirks, gesturing for Bucky to follow him outside of the grey building lined with symbol-encrusted weaponry.

“I know.” The demon's eyes have that devilish glow to them reserved only for their secretive looks.

Although not too much for the cadet to handle, his bag weighs down against his back; almost full with a case of ammunition, a water bottle topped to the very brim with water, a basic medical kit and a fleecy blanket.It's not luxury, but Steve wasn't expecting anything else.

In the not-quite-afternoon yellow rays, the blond joins the rest of his teammates just around the corner. They greet one another with smiles that are nothing but a facade. They're nervous. But of course they are. As they head towards the parked trucks the shear number of soldiers around them becomes apparent- at least a couple hundred, and that's only the ones in the immediate vicinity. Steve is certain that there will already be soldiers at the location. Scouts surveying the area and perhaps even starting the battle that is sure to come.

The blond spots _Hydra_ already lined up with their demons in front of Peter's own team, forming neat rows of gathered soldiers. He recognises Wade in the crowd too, along with other soldiers who have graduated while Steve has been training at the academy.

Fury steps out from behind one of the trucks, his walk confident and menacing as he prowls his way to the front of the mass of soldiers. His brows are drawn together as he addresses the two fifth year teams, his voice loud, and somewhat cold after the crowd's mutters turn to silence as they listen to him.

“Congratulations, cadets. Consider yourselves fully graduated soldiers.”

_What?_

The cadets glance at one another in confusion. Fury's words are a turmoil in their stomachs, for it feels like a slap in the face of reality. Like ice had just been poured down their backs or their lungs ripped from their chests.

“If you make it back from this mission alive, then you'll be some of the best of the best.” Fury's words do anything but spark excitement in their chests. In fact, it makes the soldiers feel more troubled, albeit more determined to survive as the old soldier's stare filters over the rows of younger men and women. “Yesterday, as many as fifteen high level demons were detected in the old Tug Hill State Forest. By this morning, that number has risen to almost forty. And it's still increasing.

“They're not on their own, and some of them are even working in groups of three, to units of seven. There's an open gateway towards the centre of the area, it's stability is fluctuating. But we're aiming to have it closed off within forty-eight hours once we can get its exact location and have access to it.

“But don't concern yourselves with that. Your mission is to destroy the demons in the area. Register each kill via your watches, and we'll send you information on demons in your assigned locations. However, the gateway may affect the efficiency of that system, and so you must exercise precaution, and never assume that there isn't a demon close by that needs to be destroyed,” Fury warns them before dismissing them with a few last words of the organisation of their travels.

The _Avengers_ and _Hydra_ along with their demons, fit tightly into one of the transport vehicles. There's a flickering white light above them, but other than that, they are enclosed in darkness, and remain as such for five hours until they arrive at the location. They're all desperate to stretch their legs after the seemingly never-ending drive. Instead of their usual chatter, very few individuals had spoken while the truck had jolted on uneven roads.

“So... why exactly is this place called a forest?” Clint questions, perplexed at the sight before him.

For all the cadets can perceive is a barren wasteland. The rich earth had long since turned to a sand-like substance, almost imitating a desert. It certainly feels like one, despite the sun slowly beginning to set in the distant horizon as it casts its amber and lilac hues over the land. The occasional silver rock catches the light,glimmering like a jewel embedded into the earth.

“There was a huge demon attack around this area some 200 years ago, I think. It was a couple earth class, no, maybe fire class demons and a rare class too,” Bruce explains. “It originated in the centre of the forest where a gateway opened up on its own. There was so much damage it affected everything in something like a 50 mile radius, and nothing ever really recovered.”

Steve watches as other soldiers get out of their own grumbling vehicles, only then to head towards a series of five grey, metallic buildings clustered together. There's merely a fragment of the amount of people there was before back at the academy, and so the blond can only assume that they've been spread out along the boarder of the demon-infected land.

The _Avengers_ are soon greeted by _Agents,_ their dirty faces pleased to see the ~~cadets~~ other soldiers. Quickly showing them to one of the single-storey, yet wide structures, Skye explains how this will be where they can 'make themselves at home' for however long it takes them to execute all of the demons. The inside is just as dim and grimy as Steve thought it would be. There are no windows, and the only light comes from four large torches placed in the far corners of the room. There's another creaky door that leads to a small ensuite containing a basic shower, toilet and sink. Although there's mould and dust caught in cobwebs on the ceiling, Steve doesn't think its all too bad.

He has Bucky by his side, after all.

“We requested for your team to be assigned to this area,” Skye admits as the rest of the soldiers tuck into some warm soup.

“Why us?” Sam asks with a raised brow.

“Because last time, our teams worked well together,” she explains, before settling her bowl on the floor in front of her crossed legs. “That, and another reason too. We thought the _Avengers_ may be most likely to help us with a little situation we have at the moment.”

“You have far more experience than us, I doubt we can make that much of a difference,” Tony scowls, confused.

“We've been tracking a dark class demon in the area,” Mackenzie cuts in. “With Rogers bonded with a dark class demon, it'll give us the advantage when we attempt to take the rogue one down.”

Steve glances up from his lap to where Bucky stands next to his bag of supplies against the far wall. Along that same stretch, the other demons bonded to members of the _Avengers_ are lined up just as silently, while the other team's demons rest at the opposite side of the room where they will likely remain for the duration of the mission.

Bucky's head vaguely motions to the side, tilting just a fraction but it's enough for Steve to understand that his demon doesn't sense the other dark class. But that doesn't stop the younger man from wondering... what if it's the same demon that had murdered his father?

“There's a dark class here?” Sam exclaims, the mood instantly shifting as the reality of the situation truly begins to set in. Like the tide slowly approaching the sandy shores, until with a mere blink it seems to hide golden grains with a murky blue.

“Yeah, we caught a glimpse of it this morning. Tricky thing, didn't get the chance to engage it,” Ward clarifies, annoyance clearly getting the better of him. Though perhaps... he's just _afraid._ However, terrified might be a more appropriate description.

If Bucky can't sense the fiend, that must mean that the demon isn't currently in the human realm. Which only leaves the cadet to believe that Loki is taking advantage of the gateway. Hiding in the Netherworld until it's his time to strike.

What if he's here by the _Kyosw's_ orders? What if he's here to try to take Bucky from him?

It may not be Loki, or even a dark class at all- there's the possibility of a mistake. Even if a small one.

Steve is torn between how he feels about the situation. If he were to ever desire revenge for his father's death, now would be the opportunity. But, that's not his priority. It can't be. He's sworn to protect those who can't defend themselves. They cannot allow such a demon to continue to wander the human realm.

However, Steve's priorities... he can't help but feel as if they've gradually shifted in the last few years. The most important thing to him isn't revenge, nor is it to protect civilians like the soldier he's always wanted to be. No, it's Bucky. Their bond. The feel of being in his demon's arms. The devilish smirk on Bucky's lips. Steve isn't willing to ever let that go- to let Bucky go.

At Bucky's side, they'll destroy every demon who dares to snarl at them with a silver star upon their form. For Bucky's past doesn't matter; they can't change it. But they can still shape the future. And it doesn't need to be a path with ghosts of untold history with death chasing their every move.

They can make it out of this alive... they just need to be more tactful and determined than a trickster of darkness.

        

Most of the cadets ache from sleeping on the hard floor, but for Steve, one press of Bucky's palm to the small of his back is all it takes for the blond to be ready for the day ahead. They're forced up before dawn even approaches the horizon, fed rations as quickly as starving dogs and then jostled out the door with nothing but themselves, their demons and human weaponry they pray they don't have to use.

Bucky had sat beside the blond during the night, cross-legged as he had resisted the urge to pull the younger man into his arms. The dark class distastes the arrangement: there's too many wandering eyes and not enough privacy for sweet kisses or innocent caresses. It's not that the demon is ashamed of his affections for Steve, it's just that he understands why the cadet doesn't want anyone else to know of them.

As they cross warming, yellow sand, the _Avengers_ and _Agents_ are relatively silent. And so are their surroundings. There's no lullaby of a bird's song, nor the gushing of a river or the trembling of fallen rocks on one of the hillsides. The area is seemingly void of life, as if the earth had given up the fight long ago.

They briskly cover the land towards where _Agents_ had supposedly discovered a dark class demon. But if Loki -or any other dark class- had been there, they're clearly long gone. Although agitated by the circumstances, Bucky shows no further irritation of their whereabouts, suggesting to the cadet that there's nothing for them to fear. And even if there was, at the end of it all, Steve knows that Bucky will protect them.

But, regardless of that, the blond would like to think that they are capable of fighting (and winning) their own battles. Though the younger man can't help but wonder... whether they are choosing the wrong war to take part it. Nothing appears as simple as it once was more than four years ago. Before Steve had become bonded with the most powerful demon the academy had witnessed- even if they hadn't known it at the time. And perhaps, they still don't fully grasp the true extent of the demon's strengths and skills. Even Steve isn't wholly aware of just what Bucky is capable of. The mass destruction he could cause and the chaos he could bring to the human realm... all of that is tamed away so that he may cradle a certain little blond warrior in his embrace.

“There's no sign of it here...” Skye taps once at her watch as if to confirm her suspicions. But as they venture further into the area, their watches begin to stutter static-like flashes on their screens.

“If you were a dark class demon, where would you go? What would you do?” Lance (at least Steve thinks that is his name) ponders, stare fleeting across the landscape.

“Could have gone through the gateway again,” Bruce suggests, his brain subconsciously making calculations of the probabilities of where such a demon would venture to.

“It's possible... but...” Skye trails off, as if refusing to believe that the fiend could have got away from them before even having the chance to take it down.

“What about the castle? It could be hiding there and we wouldn't know- it's a weak spot for the demon scanners.” Mackenzie gestures towards a grey, stone-brick castle in the near distance. Like a spot of darkness in the middle of a land seemingly made from specks of gold and the occasional dim, emerald shrubbery.

“We might as well go check it out then. We need to make sure our entire area is clear of all demons anyway.” Skye nods her approval, and the two teams immediately head towards the overbearing building that peeks out from between two barren slopes.

However, as they venture down one of the smaller, grainy hillsides, a high-pitch screech causes the soldiers to halt in place. Their watches buzz with interference, but they don't need sensors to realise that the sound is coming from a demon. The noise is intermixed with crackling _pops_ and flares of white light that gleam as the humans simultaneously decide to investigate.

But what they see, isn't exactly what they expected.

Two large, white coyotes snap their jaws, bearing their teeth as the pair circle what appears to be a beige mountain lion. Bright sparks flicker from their mouths, saliva dripping from their canines as they force the lion further back with each torturously slow step forward.

Electricity classes.

Warriors.

Blades of grass grow under the lion's padded paws, only to turn brow when the creature moves, it's head turning side to side as if it wouldn't dare to turn it's back on one of the other demons. It's thick coat swirls from a dark brown, back to a sandy colour as if it wishes to blend in with the ground beneath it.

Earth Class.

Possible Trickster.

Without a moment's hesitation, the electricity classes pounce onto the third demon. Pointed teeth sink and slice into yellow flesh, aiming for its throat and chest with a savageness that make the humans gasp with widening eyes.

“What the hell...” Clint murmurs under his breath.

“Are they trying to kill that demon?” Wanda's voice is uncertain, for although they've heard of territorial behaviour... they've never seen it before. But regardless of that, the fight doesn't seem to be some petty battle for space. It's more than that, but the soldier's have no clue as to what the reason might actually be.

Steve glances up at the dark class who stands with folded arms beside him, unaffected by the scene of slaughter as if it were an everyday occurrence for him. But perhaps, Bucky just truly lacks empathy when it comes to his own kind. The dark class shows no loyalty to demons, and if anything, his attitude is either the complete opposite of that, or he is wholly void of emotions on the matter. Akin to such creatures being nothing but mere specks of dirt that do not affect the demon enough to warrant his attention. That is, until they threaten a certain little warrior.

With a final, deafening squeal, the earth class goes limp- it's body torn and bloody as its insides leak into the sand. The demon's wrecked form shifts into its true demonic figure, but it's too damaged to actually perceive what the creature may have really looked liked.

The earth class destroyed, two pairs of purple eyes turn on the soldiers as their muzzles gape with their deep, vibrating snarls. Weapons are instantly manifested in a swarm of different coloured mists as the humans prepare for the inevitable attack.

That's when Steve notices the sudden trickle of water across the sand at the edge of his peripheral vision, shifting behind the group of soldiers. A light blue mist appears above the patch of water, and Steve turns just enough to take it in without being too obvious. He doesn't have time to warn the others of the ambush. Instead, rather than him making a move on the demons in front of them, he pulls his shoulder back enough for the shield to rip and glint through the air at the mist. Right into the centre of the water class demon's chest, disrupting them as they attempted to shift into a humanoid form.

But as soon as Steve had twisted, turning away from the other demons, the electricity classes had taken the opportunity to break into the security of the huddled teams. They separate the soldiers from one another, dashing between humans and demons like agile dogs flustering a herd of cattle until they are forced to scatter.However, the unbonded demons do not even attempt to go near Bucky; choosing to give him a wide berth as one might do to avoid something deadly.

Their reluctance to get close to Bucky gives the _Avengers_ the chance to regroup as they signal to the other team to tackle one demon each. It takes several sure shots and a lot of ducking from bolts of electricity until the two fiends finally slump to the ground.

“Nice work spotting that water class earlier,” Simmons praises the blond. Steve quickly nods his thanks, breathless under the heat of the scorching sun. It's almost as if the heated rays don't want the soldiers to move on, like a warning from the heavens.

He isn't exactly sure how he had sensed the demon's presence... In all honesty, he shouldn't have. It was such a minor detail that had caught his gaze, one that shouldn't have really registered with him. It's as if he's more in-tune with his own creature of darkness than he originally believed. Picking up on every emotion that reverberates through their bond and even unknowingly understanding the tiny signals the dark class gives off whenever there is potential danger- at least anything harmful to the humans.

That must be why Steve feels something awful rushing through his veins.

He can sense Bucky's irritation in drumming pulses, like a bull getting ready to charge. Or is it anger? It's not fear but its... It's enough to send a chill down the cadet's vertebrae. After all, he knows exactly what it means. And Steve isn't sure if he's actually ready to face it yet.

Bucky shifts on his feet, visibly tensing. His harsh stare wandering the open plains until it lands on a fixed point like an eagle spotting its prey. The younger man follows that gaze to the abandoned castle that sits half-demolished in the sand. Its towers have collapsed and its main ceiling has sunken, completely broken in some places.

As they draw nearer the complex, Skye suggests to split up, and the two teams divide just like that. While _Agents_ head round the side of the castle to the make-shift back entrance, the _Avengers_ enter through the large front. The wooden doors would be heavy to push aside if they weren't already crisp and burnt so much that the framework had cracked to create a slit large enough for the cadets and their demons to squeeze through one by one. Steve goes in first with Bucky close behind him at his heels. The wide room diverts into numerous staircases and corridors, with a stone desk typical to the kind one might see at a hotel reception.

“Should we split up again?” Rhodey questions, uncertain as he takes in the seemingly never-ending directions they could go in, and the surely endless rooms they all lead to.

“No, its safer to stay together. We don't know how powerful the dark class is,” Steve counters, despite the fact that he has a pretty good idea as to just what the fiend might be capable of.

“We don't know for sure that it's here,” Sam frowns. The blond looks to his friend, a firmness set in his expression before his eyes dart to Bucky as if to say _'but he knows'._ The other cadet appears to get the hint, and disregards himself. “You're right, though. It'll be better to work as a team... Just in case.”

“Which way do we go then?” Wanda asks as her gaze leaves the golden light of the exit that illuminates their forms.

Their demons seem agitated: shifting on their feet with eyes set uncomfortably on the ground. The blond can only assume that it's because they sense _Loki._ Or rather, they feel the growing shadows of Bucky's aura overwhelming their own vibrant ones. As if they've got a sense of Bucky's irritated state, just flicker of it like a glowing matchstick, and now they only yearn to remove themselves entirely from the situation.

“We'll head down here first,” Steve replies, honing in on his demon's slight step in the direction of a darkened, arched corridor.

It's strange, though. Before, Bucky hadn't seemed that bothered when speaking of the other dark class. Of course, there was distaste, but there always is when he speaks of other demons. But now... it's as if Bucky perceives him as a _threat._ Then again, it would be foolish of them to think otherwise. Demons are dangerous. Not necessarily to Bucky, but certainly for the humans. And that is why it is only when a demon threatens Steve's existence, that Bucky's muscles tense as if preparing for war- one that he is determined to win. Regardless of costs or consequences.

The younger man is strong, but in a world where demons could be likened to gods, there are just certain things (or rather, some creatures) that the cadet surely cannot defeat. Not on his own. It's in these circumstances the Bucky's instinct to protect overrides anything and everything else. Nothing matters, but Steve's safety. As long as the blond can smile with shining blue eyes... Bucky forgets about the ghosts that haunt him.

However, the mere thought that some being may try to take Steve from his embrace makes the demon's power grumble with a certain loathing. Like some rabid dog on the end of a chain that's edging closer to its breaking point. With a _snap_ that power can lash out and cause more destruction and chaos than anyone at the academy could possibly expect.

The gloomy corridor is weaved with twists and tight turns, getting darker with each corner as they dive further into the desolate castle. Eventually, the hallway comes to a sudden stop as it reveals a long, open room will stone columns built for support. There's a spiralled crack in the ceiling that has opened up to allow the sun's rays to filter through into the otherwise complete darkness. But that yellow light only reaches so far into the room, barely half way down before it fails to illuminate the particles of dust that float in the air. As if a strip of shadows have cut them off just as a one might slash a lifeline.

The _Avengers_ journey further into the room, passing several spread out pillars until their light-placed steps are interrupted by a snapping sound. Almost like the fracturing of a bone, or rather... exactly like that. The noise continues, crunching in their ears as they switch on the torch function of their watches to brightened the path ahead. But what they see... As their warm breaths catch in their throats, it's as if something is blocking their windpipes.

There's a thick line of red on the cold ground, smeared and broken up as if something had been dragged along it in a struggle. The tracks lead over a mound of rubble from the rooftops, sticky and shining as if one's fingertips would be marred red if touched.

Steve gestures for half of the team to go one side of the ruins, while Tony and Sam follow the blond with their bonded demons around the other end. The younger man glances up at Bucky hesitantly, but the dark class gives him a curt nod as if it say _everything will be okay._ As soon as they carefully traipse around the edge of the stones, Steve begins to feel nauseous. Sick, as if something is grabbing and pulling at his insides. For what his gaze meets, isn't anything he expected to ever lay eyes on.

A crouched figure draped in a deep green cape seemingly emerges from the shadows several metres in front of them. The thin material attaches to two armoured shoulder pads and spreads out behind him like a river as it dips in the pool of blood that stains the ground with its crimson hue. The demon's forehead is adorned with golden, elongated horns that gleam in what little light graces his form. Black hair entangles around his shoulders, bobbing against him while his hands...

Steve is surely going to throw up, for the demon holds a bloodied heart in his hands. The body beneath him is near impossible to identify, for their limbs have been ripped from their torso. On the demon's left upper arm, is a silver star embedded into the material of his black shirt.

“Is it _him?_ Is that the demon who killed my father?” The blond questions, ever so quietly to his demon. But whatever Bucky can perceive, Loki can too, and his head snaps up to acknowledge the soldiers who are frozen in place.

The demon _smiles,_ as if the smaller man had just spoken the most amusing tale. With blue eyes that are practically crystals they are so light, almost glowing in the shadows of the room... he lets out a low cackle. Loki sees the pained expression in their eyes- the _fear_ that wells within them. There's nothing more satisfying than seeing such torment as the realisation that the corpse was one of the _Agents_ crosses their faces. But the sadistic grin doesn't last for long as his gaze lands on Bucky, as if seeing him for the first time.

“Yes,” Bucky whispers in reply to the blond's query. Though really, there wasn't any need to do so. The cadet just seems to _know_ that the demon with blood dripping from their hands is the same one that had taken his father's life all those years ago.

“ _Zatfeit Efjozal..._ You killed my brother,” Loki hisses, his lips turning up into snarl.

Steve frowns at that, unsure what the demon is referring to. But whatever it is, it causes a low rumble to echo up from Bucky's chest. The cadet struggles to find the right translation for Loki's first two snapped words, for the rest had been spoken in English. The other soldiers stay silent (what can they possibly say?) while their demons take tentative steps away from the enraged dark class demons.

Steve's knees begin feel weak, his lungs heavy as if weighed down by soaked sand. But Loki's words seem familiar... If the blond did indeed hear them correctly, then it only makes him more confused. It doesn't make sense. The cadet surely must be mistaken. Otherwise, his heart can only sink into the shadows at their meaning. But, until he's sure, the blond refuses to make any assumptions, for that will get them no where. However, despite thinking that, the cadet can't control his anxious thoughts and the turmoil that begins to swirl in the depths of his mind.

_Zatfeit Efjozal._

_Zah-te-feeayee-te. Eay-fe-jay-for-sal._

That's what Loki said, right? With the years Steve and Bucky have spent together, there have been far more than just a few sleepless nights dedicated to the human learning the Forbidden Language. To be taught the many symbols and their ultimate meanings, and where to put emphasis on certain words. Steve knows just a fraction of how much there is still yet for him to learn... But it's enough in this moment.

_Zatfeit. Dream._

_Efjozal. Invader._

Steve's head swarms with a thousand rushed, desperate thoughts all at once. Loki stands up sharply, evoking the other dark class to react in an instant. Bucky steps in front of the smaller man, gently pushing him back with his metallic arm just as his wings tear through the stitched fabric of his shirt.

The shadows in the room thicken like ink, and every one of the human's breaths come out as a cold gasp of white air despite the scorching sun above them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine there may be questions/theories relating to the final scene of this chapter... but in time, everything will be revealed and it'll all become clear! :)


	42. Your Shadows Are Not What They Appear To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ forty-one:  
> **Steve and Bucky said goodbye to Sarah before they made their way back to the academy early.  
> **The Avengers and Hydra 'officially' graduate to become soldiers in preparation for their next mission.  
> **After battling several demons, they come face-to-face with Loki, the demon who killed Steve's father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I officially finished writing The Demon Bond a few days ago... And now it's just gone midnight (so apologies if I've missed errors >.< ) here so much earlier update time than normal ahaha I don't think I've ever been so nervous about posting a chapter before XD
> 
> I am now working on Bucky's backstory, which will contain the important moments of his life, and I feel as if it will shed light on a lot of Bucky's behaviour and choices. I'll share more details upon The Demon Bond's completion, but it will basically be a prequel to The Demon Bond.  
> Also, once The Demon Bond is fully uploaded, I'll be posting the translations of Bucky and Thor's conversation from all those chapters ago (and any other things requiring translation) on The Demon Bond Tumblr & IG accounts so make sure you're following those if you would like to.
> 
> And on a last note! One of my readers mentioned it would be their birthday today. So...I want to wish you a very happy birthday! I hope you enjoy the chapter! :)
> 
> It's about time some secrets be revealed.

“He deserved to die,” Bucky snaps in response to Loki's accusation. It's not said defensively, but instead with a certainty void of any guilt.

“You are the one who needs to _die,_ ” Loki spits, as if his whole body is quaking with a furious, burning heat that only inflames with the idea of revenge. The demon takes an arrogant step forward, only to pause; his tormenting eyes crease in the corners as his stare lands upon the blond some-what conceal by one of Bucky's outstretched wings.

Although the other members of the _Avengers_ approach Loki from behind him in the darkness, they're reluctant to get too close. The cadets are unsettled and undecided as they wait for Steve's order to commence the fight. But most of all, they are frightened of the demons who so clearly speak their own tongue as if they aren't some wild, manic beings.

Their fear fills the air, and that only makes Loki chuckle softly. Regardless of the fact that the two dark class demons are on fairly even ground as far as their powers are concerned (and in this way, Bucky may even possess more power) there is a clear weakness present for one of them. And that weakness breathes in the form of a little blond warrior. It's all too obvious to Loki- as evident as the sun in a sky absent of grey.

“What's that necklace you have there, soldier, hm? Is that why I didn't sense you...I don't think you should have that.” Loki ponders, finding the cadet's troubled eyes that widen just slightly with Loki's revelation. Examining the human's confused expression, the dark class knows that he's found something vulnerable. Which only means that he's discovered a fragile shard that may be rather interesting to see broken into fragments. Especially if he can goad some sort of reaction from the other dark class. “Perhaps I should take it from you. It wasn't his to give.”

“ _Don't you dare touch him,”_ Bucky growls, tone harsh and full of the need to protect. Ready to lash out at any moment, any second... no matter what, he's ready for it. An attack, an attempt at manipulation, Bucky is not one that can be swayed. In that respect, his stubbornness is very much like the blond's. He just hopes Steve won't be deterred by the other demon's sly tactics.

“Don't act like he's precious to you!” Loki scoffs, his face distorted in utter revulsion. The rogue dark class sees such humans as nothing but mere flesh. They are frail and sickly in the demon's eyes, and he doesn't understand just what Bucky must see in the one beside him. “He's worthless. Come back to us and maybe _Schmidt_ will offer you a deal.” It's a proposition the trickster hopes will tempt the bonded demon as his voice calms just a fraction. “You want your freedom, don't you?”

“He doesn't have anything he could offer me, the _Kyosw_ knows that.” A thousand treasures, the stars in the sky, his freedom and even the entire world, or two realms for that matter … Bucky would refuse it all if it means he remains bonded with Steve.

“I suppose that's why he rather you be dead.” Loki scowls disapprovingly. With all the black tendrils encircling his ankles, there's something almost human-like about the dark class. The small pout of his lips is very much like Bucky's expression whenever a situation hasn't gone his way. But there's something far more sinister in Loki's eyes. “Let's begin with that pretty little thing of yours, shall we?”

“You can try,” Bucky challenges. His wings flinch twice in agitation, vibrating with an intense energy that that fizzes along each individual coarse feather. Almost like some electrical barrier embedded with darkness.

“Give the _zaid_ to me. You won't need it when you're dead.”

Steve is caught out by the abrupt change in language, even if for a mere word. But it is one the blond doesn't know. However, whatever it means, it's clearly something Bucky isn't willing to give up if the deep, gravelly warning is any indication.

“ _He is mine.”_

“How could you allow yourself to become attached to such creatures? You are as disgusting as they are!” Loki snarls his aversion as his stare focuses on Bucky once more, his shoulders tensing just as his fingers clench at his sides. Curls of shadows twists around his palms, encircling his wrists as if alive like tiny snakes. “They are _weak.”_ Then, he turns to the human as if to disregard the other demon entirely. Steve has never witnessed such eyes of hatred and malicious intent. “Your father was that little pesky human, wasn't he? Putting his nose where it didn't belong. I enjoyed ripping him apart. His blood splattered everywhere... Reminds me of someone else.”

“ _Enough,”_ Bucky reprimands, though all he gets is a small, mocking laugh in response.

The sound of footsteps echoes inside the room, growing louder as _Agents_ approach in search of the signal their fallen comrade had sent before they had been ripped apart. Their shadowed forms appear from underneath a large archway, their watches illuminating the dusty path. Their hurried pace slows as they take in the scene laid out before them. Of their fallen friend with their limbs torn and their blood seeping into the floor like spilt red wine.

Loki glances over his shoulder plate to where the more experienced soldiers quickly exchange panicked words of a plan of attack. They know that they must defeat the rogue dark class, for there's no sign of any limit as to what he may be capable of. Their adrenaline permeates the air, mixing in with the scent of bitter fear that is almost as sweet as honey as they converge on the demon. However, Loki dismisses them without so much as a second thought, his gaze switching to lock firmly with Bucky's.

“ _Wy ez patefr bal uai,_ Zatfeit Efjozal.”

_He is coming for you, Dream Invader._

Steve doesn't have the time to comprehend his words, for with just a slender rotation of Loki's wrist, a wave of shadows sprout like thick vines from the darkness around him. The dense mist cascades like an avalanche in all directions, akin to a wave in the middle of a stormy ocean in the dead of night. Bucky's metallic hand instantly pushes out in front of his chest; palm up and fingers spread apart as a translucent black wall fires up like a shield to protect the blond- and coincidentally, the two other soldiers and their demon's beside him.But that doesn't stop the current from slamming into the other soldiers with such force that they are thrown onto their backs. Some crashing into stone columns while others fall and scrap their skin against the rough ground.

Loki just _laughs._

It's ~~almost~~ manic like. And honestly... it fills the blond with a sense of foreboding. A feeling he cannot seem to shake.

With a clenched jaw, Steve and his remaining teammates grip their weapons with whitening knuckles. Glimmering shield in one hand, and keen knife in the other, the cadet is determined to take Loki down. He's had enough of listening to the words spoken by a creature he cannot trust. But when the younger man goes to take a step forward, Bucky grabs his upper arm with enough force to cause Steve to grimace in dull pain.

Before the smaller man can question his demon's motives, _Agents_ and the rest of the _Avengers_ are already getting back onto their unsteady feet. A scowl replaces the determination woven into Skye's expression, as if she's considering something rather painful. But it's a decision that has to be made, and she cannot let her emotions get the better of her. A clear mind is an absolute must on the battle field. It's not that she's giving up, but with her hand making a cutting motion through the air, it's a signal for the soldiers to back off.

She's not a fool: Skye knows that they cannot possibly take the dark class down without further backup. They must retreat before it's too late... before they too take their final breathes at the hand of a creature of hatred and shadows. The teams cannot take the risk of being destroyed by one mere demon.

Steve on the other hand, is reluctant to do so. How can they possibly let the demon go? He's already murdered one of their own, and if they were to allow Loki to walk free another day... who knows just what the dark class would do next. What lives he may also take, just as easily as how one may pluck a flower straight from the earth.

But, that's not the only reason. Loki killed his father... How can he let such a creature go when they are standing right in front of him? It's a chance to put his father's death behind him. Truly. Perhaps it would also allow Sarah to find her own peace with their loss. He understands deep down that he's just grasping at futile ideas. Revenge is not in his heart. Though the desire to protect Bucky is. Loki has threatened his demon's existence, and that irks Steve more than anything else ever could.

The rogue dark class glances between the unmoving soldiers who look to the most suitable escape route, and Bucky's tight hold of the blond. Head cocking to the side as if listening to something the humans cannot decipher, Loki sighs his vexation as his hands turn to fists at his sides with hunched shoulders. Pale fingers suddenly spread out, evoking a heavy black cloud to obscure his form like how overgrown trees block out the light. It's only a few seconds until the mist clears, as does Loki.

The room instantly transforms into a golden hue with the rays that penetrate through the air, at last reaching the silvery floor and warming the startled soldiers. Everything becomes clearer as if a fragment of the sun has vanquished the darkness Loki had brought. The red blood and pink flesh of the deceased soldier glint like distorted, wet jewels. The blond is sure he hears someone gag at the sight.

Tight grip still on his arm, Steve shrugs his demon off, taking a step forwards instinctively before gritting his teeth. When the smaller man turns to stare Bucky in the eyes, the dark class is absent of any regret for his actions. The demon can see the questions rising in the blue of those shining eyes just as lava rises before a volcano inevitably erupts.

“I'm not the only one who heard that demon talk, right?” Bobbi's eyes are wide, expression showing the panic her words only somewhat hide.

“It was probably just an illusion, forget about it. It's not important right now,” Jemma scolds, her stare wandering to their dead teammate until it becomes too much to bear, and she has to tear herself away. To cut off her feelings from influencing her actions, and locking them away for when a day comes where she can finally let them fall down her cheeks.

Although Steve hadn't known them well (barely even a little) he remains sympathetic to the other team. Process of elimination has the cadet realising that it is the soldier he knew as Mackenzie who Loki had murdered.But a flood of reality freezes his chest: he's not going to know all the names of the men and women who will surely die on this mission. It's almost a guarantee that there will be casualties. Steve can only hope that it wont be any of his teammates he'll be visiting in the hospital- or worse, the morgue.

“Let's just get out of here. We need to regroup and get more backup to destroy that dark class. We shouldn't take down a trickster like that with only two teams- it's hard to know what to expect,” Skye explains, already turning on her heels to face the archway _Agents_ had come through. She taps at her watch screen in the hopes of relaying Loki's last known location to central command. “But now we've confirmed the demon's presence, we can request for more soldiers in the area and make a decent plan of action.”

With that, the two teams begin the trek out of the castle. No one argues about leaving the body behind; it'll only slow them down. Besides from that, there isn't much left intact for them to carry the corpse back to the outlying bases.

The _Avengers_ are ~~quiet~~ silent. Steve couldn't be more thankful to them. It's obvious that they had not only heard Loki speak, but Bucky too. However, they keep such information to themselves and say nothing without having to be told to let it remain a secret. In turn, they each give the blond a look that fills him with nothing but relief.

_They've got his back._

For just a moment, it feels as if he's not bearing any burdens alone.

A little under ten minutes passes before they approach a passage way leading to the main exit that consists of a curved door, once leading into an exotic garden filled with vibrant flowers and luscious trees. Steve hangs to the back of the group, gnawing at his bottom lip as his mind attempts to process everything he had witnessed... and heard.

“I remember your father,” a voice echoes. Steve casts a glance over his shoulder, but sees nothing in the shadows as a shiver crawls down his spine. Tiny goosebumps appear along the the surface of his arms as the minuscule, soft hairs at the back of his neck rise.“You have the same stench as he did.”

No one else seems to have perceived the ghost-like voice. Even Bucky doesn't react to it... though that doesn't really imply much.

“The only difference is that his scent was always dulled by _intoxication,_ ” the voice goads.

Steve halts, and Bucky bumps gently against his back in surprise. The blond automatically searches for his demon's gaze for answers, or perhaps, merely reassurance. The rest of the soldiers continue, not yet realising Steve's footsteps have disappeared from the reverberation of their own.

“Ignore it, my little warrior,” Bucky encourages, placing his palm at the dip of Steve's lower spine. His fingertips seep a calming heat through the layers of protective clothing.

“He didn't even see it coming,” the voice continues with a chuckle. Though it's far more cruel and malevolent than Steve could ever imagine. It feels almost as if hundreds of minute needles are piercing his ear drums. “He thought he was hunting me down... But humans are oh-so-easily _manipulated.”_

Bucky growls deep within his chest, their bond pulsing with the demon's aggravation like some dog having endured sharp rocks being thrown at them until they finally decide to retaliate. Steve cautiously looks to the darkness where silver-flecked orbs glare at the shadowed outline of a demon. Loki walks out from amongst the black mist, just a little ways behind them.

The rest of the soldiers still haven't noticed the bonded pair's absence, even if they aren't that far away at all- merely in the next spacious room. Steve gasps as Bucky takes his wrist,clinging onto him tightly with metallic digits without the pressure that could easily break the younger man's bones.

“We should return to the others,” Bucky coaxes adamantly. He watches the blond with thin lips and creases of a stern expression plastering his face. “We should leave.”

“I got this.” Steve tries to slip from the demon's grip. But his stubbornness only has him continuing to manifest the knife in that very same hand, while the shield appears from a black mass of shadows in the other.

“I do not doubt your strength.” His demon's sincerity isn't enough to settle the idea of needing justice so desperately. Steve never wanted revenge, at least... he thought he didn't. He never believed it would be a possibility. If he would ever get a chance for retribution on the demon who took his father's life. But right now, the blond cannot dispel the notion of justice from his heart. It's like a virus that has infected his mind, seeping into his cells until it becomes too much for him to handle.

“Why don't you come and prove yourself, human?” Loki provokes with a sneer. He's already figured out the smaller man's weak points, and they are not something that can be trained away like the weakness of his muscles. “Entertain me better than your father did. ”

That's it. The cadet snaps, abruptly pulling from Bucky's tight grip enough for him to be left with a red mark upon his white skin. Boots pressing firmly against the ground, the blond heads straight for Loki and the swirling shadows around him. But before he can get more than a few thudded paces, a strangled gasp escapes the blond's throat as arms encircle his waist. Bucky's embrace forces the smaller man's weapons to dissipate into the air without so much as a trace as he's pressed against the demon's chest.

Steve struggles against the hold, jaw clenching with his frustration. He can hear Sam calling out his name from the exit, his confusion laced into his shout. However, nothing has made him still so quickly as Loki's next words.

“Do you truly trust him?” With a smirk, the demon continues, prying out any form of retaliation he can muster from the human's core. “The _Zatfeit_ _Efjozal_ used to work on our side. He was one of us. Haunting the dreams of other demons as they slept... until he drove them _insane.”_ The rogue dark class laughs to himself, as if amused by his own torturously slow words as he observes the younger man's reaction, and in turn, Bucky's as well. He can pick out the cadet's rapidly beating heart amongst footsteps drawing near. “What would make you think he's _changed?”_ Loki snarls, blue eyes darkening with the shadows that seep into their depths. Almost as if he's disgusted and being sickened by the prospect. “You are nothing but flesh. What makes you think you're so special?”

Steve doesn't understand. The blood in his veins feels as if they have turned into frozen streams. His chest is tight, as if someone's fist is squeezing the air from them until there's nothing left. Head aching, his heart only hammers louder in his ears. That momentary hesitancy gives the rogue dark class the opportunity to escape in a mass of dense shadows as cautious footsteps echo closer.

Thoughts cloud the cadet's judgement in a haze of confusion. But he should expect little else from a trickster. Torment is seemingly ingrained into every fibre of their being; their cells twisted with a cruelty that cannot be unwound. Steve shouldn't second guess Loki's words, and yet he can't seem to stop himself. Instead of ignoring the provocations, he's absorbed them into his way of thinking. Not just about the situation they had found themselves in, but everything else. Because... _what if?_

Muscular arms are still holding onto him tightly when Sam and Redwing emerge from around the curved corner. The dark class gently releases the blond from against his chest when the other human scowls at him. They don't have the time nor true privacy for any arguments- there's other more important matters at hand.

“Everything's fine, Sam. We're just coming,” Steve assures him. The blond only glances once into silver-flecked irises before turning down the dim hallway. Bucky follows behind him obediently without a word, far from feeling guilty for his actions. The demon has his reasons, after all. Even if Steve can't understand them in the moment, and he may never do.

Bucky has never hesitated in killing one of his own kind before. Especially ones that threatened the blond's mere existence. However, something has changed. Something is different. Something that is far out of reach, for it is buried in the demon's dark, shadowed past.

Steve doesn't know if Loki is only playing mind games with him... but now a seed of doubt has grown inside his chest until he feels like he can no longer breathe.

        

They can no longer trace the rogue dark class demon. With no signal of any nearby gateway opening, the soldiers are at a loss as to where the demon may be concealing himself. It doesn't help that the maps on their watches keep being interrupted by static lines and blares.

A group of demons attempt to ambush the soldiers on their way back to the outlying base. But with Bucky's silent warnings, the teams somewhat have an advantage.They destroy the five demons with relative ease, although their victory induces sweat to run down their spines and foreheads in the heat of the day.

However, the blond is, admittedly, a little distracted. Loki's words have only raised more questions where they had still been many unanswered.

It's not that he's ignoring Bucky, even as he shakes off the tender touches to his skin as they trek through the sandy paths. It's not that he is angry or upset with his demon, the younger man merely needs time to think. And he cannot do that with a creature of darkness constantly being pressed against his side. It makes everything that much more confusing, and honestly rather disconcerting for him.

When they eventually arrive back at the bustling camp, with scrapes and bruises and one soldier short, Steve is surprised to see Fury standing beside Coulson. Skye instantly heads towards the older men while the others stand back to observe the interaction. Coulson's palm presses against her shoulder in a gesture of sympathy while Fury's brows angle closer in a frown.

A military vehicle catches Steve's attention as it comes to a stuttered, drawn-out stop by one of the tainted buildings. When he sees Peter step out the back of the truck, the blond can't help but feel distress for the soldier. Barely graduated and he's already been thrown into the midst of war. Then again, so have the cadets. On the battlefield, a soldier's age doesn't matter. Only one's sense of survival and the ability to give the fight everything they've got.

Skye is dismissed with a sharp nod of the head, and she returns to inform them that there will be meeting after dinner to discuss tactics on how to deal with the demons that are wandering near the gateway.

The soldiers line up for light-weight metallic bowls of soup and bread, freshly made and still delightfully warm on the tongue. Gathering in large circles, chatter begins as they sit on the dusty ground with small fires and electric lamps illuminating their eerie surroundings. It's not that demons are necessarily diurnal (in that they only crawl across the land in the light of day) but the soldiers cannot risk going out into the dead of night when humans are more vulnerable. And so, they have the chance to rest as the sun begins its descent.

Steve vaguely partakes in conversation, for he can feel his demon's eyes raking over his back like a pair of daggers that do not wish for their razor-like edges to cause harm. Trying to concentrate on his food, the blond doesn't succeed in eating much when his teammates jump up with their empty dishes. In all honesty, the blond isn't that hungry anyway. If anything, he feels a little sick. Nevertheless, Steve manages a few more mouthfuls before following the _Avengers_ to stack their bowls in empty boxes, before inevitably heading back to their assigned accommodation where _Agents_ have already ventured to.

Sam notices the smaller man trailing behind them, and how his steps gradually slow the closer they get. Opening his mouth as if to address the bonded pair, Sam must have thought better of it as he turns to continue walking into the building. Steve pauses just before the creaky entrance, his gaze casting up to find silvery eyes that look cruel and empty to everyone except the young warrior. Steve knows that there is so much more to the surface of Bucky's facade: he's seen it just as he can feel it through their bond.

With a slight, lingering touch to the demon's lower arm, Steve beckons to him quietly.

“Bucky, we need to talk.”

The dark class bows his head in agreement, instinctively pursuing the cadet's footsteps around the corner of the building and far from where groups of soldiers are still eating. It's private enough, Steve supposes. Their exchanges of words have little chance of being heard with Bucky's shadows twisting along the stretch of wall adjacent to them. Pivoting to face the demon, the younger man's arms cross against his chest in a sign of anxious, uncertain thoughts. The demon can see the pent-up rage swirling in the blue of the blond's eyes, like the darkest depths of the ocean churning into sun-soak pools.

Although Bucky is unsure what to expect in terms of where the cadet may begin, he has a good inkling on Steve's emotions on the matter.Especially when the smaller man frowns as if preparing himself to reprimand the demon.

“Why didn't you let me take him down? Twice! I could have done it.”

“You are strong, my little warrior. I know that, but it wasn't the time,” Bucky admits, soothingly, and yet firmly as if to let the blond know that he's serious.

“We could have killed him. He _threatened_ us!” Steve insists.

“It was empty words. To him, we weren't worth the effort.” The demon cannot possibly put it anymore delicately. The cadet's stubbornness is something that can only be overcome by tenderness, albeit rarely. “He was merely playing with your emotions.”

“He killed my father!”

“I killed his brother,” Bucky counters, his eyes darkening. “I thought revenge wasn't important to you?”

“It's... It's not!” Steve falters, perhaps a little unsure himself as his voice quietens. “But Loki said that _he_ is coming for you. He means that death class, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then we should have killed him. He's only going to tell the _Kyosw_ our location!” Steve accuses, worry edging into his tone.

The demon desperately wishes to comfort him, and yet there are few words of truth he can utter to the blond that may relieve him of his worry. Bucky knows that the cadet only wants him to be honest, and he supposes, if anything, that's all he can do in this moment.

“The _Kyosw_ already knows we are here. That I am here,” Bucky explains softly, impassive to his own statement. “Killing Loki wouldn't have made a difference to that, it would have only wasted valuable energy.”

“How can that be true?” The blond scoffs. Surely Bucky is powerful enough to take down the other dark class with ease... right? Or perhaps there is something else that the younger man is unaware of.

“Loki isn't one to fight, regardless if I killed his brother. It's rather pointless to him. He rather play mind games and see his tricks played out,” the demon reveals, sure in himself even if the blond can't possibly understand his reasoning. His stare is unwavering from the blond's, and the younger man almost feels as if he should avert his own gaze... as if he should _submit_ to the demon's steady words. “Loki is... not our priority. He is not my priority.”

“Not your priority?” The younger man huffs,“you've been killing your own kind the first chance you get.”

“Your safety is my priority. I will not allow you to go after Loki.”

“Because of things he might say?” Questioning the demon weakly is all the cadet can do until he pries some sort of comprehensible answer from the lips he aches for. “What's so different about this demon?”

Bucky goes silent, his eyes averting to watch two soldiers appear from one of the other outhouses; shifting on his feet as he waits for them to pass them without so much as a second glance.When they do finally vanish from sight, it is the human who speaks first, like he can't quite keep all his queries to himself.

“He couldn't sense me because of this pendant, right?” Steve's fingers automatically go to touch the stone that presses into his chest, right above where his heart feels as if it's only becoming more frantic with each passing second. There's so many questions Steve still has to consider, ones he's perhaps never thought of before.

Did the pendant use to protect Bucky?Where exactly had Bucky acquired it? Loki had said that it wasn't his to give, which only raises even more questions. Steve wonders for a moment if it has anything to do with the Kyosw and why he wants Bucky dead. No.. it has to be something worse than that. Something far more sinister than the human could ever imagine.

“Mm,” Bucky hums, just loud enough for the cadet to hear.

“But this wasn't yours, was it?” There's a stretch of silence unfilled -like the baron wasteland around them- before Steve delicately proposes a new query. The blond has learned by now that he needs to be more tactful when nosing into Bucky's past. As if keeping a feral beast at bay with calm notes. “Was is Loki's?”

“No. It was given to me...” The demon trails off before observing blue orbs harden. _Irresistible._ Those eyes bore into him like nothing else, and it tugs at Bucky's very core. He can not possibly resist the blond's stubbornness for answers. But there's only so much Bucky can reveal. At least for now. “It's a long story.”

“Loki said that-” Before the cadet finishes, Bucky cuts him off with a snapped response.

“Don't listen to what he says.”

“Tell me why you won't kill him,” Steve retorts, the muscles in his arms tensing.

“I've already told you my reasons.” As if reacting to the blond's frustration, the demon can feel his body become stiff as when one prepares themselves to face immediate danger.

“You're afraid of him.” It's not the right thing for the cadet to utter, but he's becoming rather desperate. He needs answers. Even if there's the possibility of him not liking it when he gets them.

“I do not fear him. Loki is strong, but we are equals in respect of our power,” Bucky says, indifferent as if detaching himself from ghost-like memories. Like cold-spots that creep along the back of his mind, ignored and yet unable to be completely locked away.

“Then tell me why the _Kyosw_ wants you dead,” the younger man pleads, for his demon's eyes have averted from his own... as if ashamed of his past... as if hiding a dark tale behind his refusal of exhaustive explanations.

“That's another long story,” Bucky sighs. It pains him not to reveal anymore, as if there's an achy throb in his chest, but it's also far less painful than telling his own history.

The cadet turns silent with a final _tsk._ But it's not as if his questions end there. Steve has to know... he has to _understand_ words of a demonic tongue that were directed at the dark class. For if the blond has translated them correctly then... Well, honestly he's not sure where to go from there. But over the last four years, if he's been passionate about anything, it's been the quiet exchanges of a foreign language in the dead of night.

“ _Zatfeit Efjozal.”_

Bucky's attention immediately jerks back to the blond at the oh-so perfectly pronounced words.

“What did Loki mean... when he called you _dream invader?”_ Steve asks, uncertain despite the confidence in his translation. It's almost as if he fears what the demon may declare in return. “That's what it means, right? Has that got something to do with why you wouldn't kill him?”

Bucky looks... he looks _guilty._ The demon's expressions are often hard to interpret, but Steve can see it almost too clearly. The _regret_ that swims in the darkness of his irises. It shocks the cadet to see such emotions, and even more so to feel it drifting through their bond. That sensation makes the blond's pulsating heart ache.

“Bucky?” Steve calls out to his demon gently, hand reaching to trace his fingers along the demon shirt, feeling the warmth radiate into his palm. Metallic fingertips slip to hold and interlace with flesh, slender ones upon where they press against the demon.

“That's what other, less powerful demons called me... because of my reputation,” Bucky begins, although seemingly hesitantly as his grip tightens on the blond's hand. “Loki knows it, and he mocks me by using such a name.”

“I don't understand,” the blond admits his confusion.

“Alongside Loki, I worked for the Kyosw more than a hundred years ago... Those who know the Kyosw well, as I used to, call him _Schmidt,_ ” Bucky confesses, eyes firmly locked with the cadet's as if to show the human the serious nature of the subject. Like a flower which roots reach far into the earth, and finally starts to bloom. “I met them both when I was still young. I didn't... There wasn't many options for me at that time.”

“You worked for the death class?”

“They... recruited me for the upcoming war. For the Kyosw knew of my powers.” Bowing his head, the demon releases his touch from the blond's skin; allowing Steve's fingertips to hover before returning to his side.“Loki was right about some of what he said. During the war, I would invade the minds of demons while they slept, and manipulate their dreams.”

“Why?” _How?_ The possibility of such a thing doesn't make sense. Like how the sun's rays cannot possibly reach the ocean's cruelest, darkest depths. The blond considers that it may be to do with Bucky having once been a Trickster. A unique skill that no other demon is known to posses. But, if Bucky's blood is still tainted with his previous Type... Steve has already thought that such associating characteristics may remain. However, what if Bucky... what if that ability is still present as well?

Steve can feel a cold slither tracing around his heart, making his once heated vessels tightened, as if frozen fragments are becoming trapped inside.

“Because that was my order. To do as such to any demon who didn't bear the mark of the Kyosw,” Bucky says bitterly with a frown that is far from directed at the younger man. “To drive Schmidt's enemies to insanity. My realm is divided, and it has been for hundreds of your years.”

“But what about...” Steve's breath hitches in his throat, taking a single step back. Bucky's eyes flicker down to his shifting feet as he does so, like he's watching how far the cadet willingly moves away from him. Softly speaking, the younger man is sure the demon can hear the tremor of his voice. “What about the dreams I've been having? Have you ever... manipulated my own dreams? You wouldn't... right?”

“I'm not going to lie to you,” Bucky replies simply.

“What? Oh my gods.” Steve's left hand automatically glides up to his lips, before clenching and dropping in-line with his chest that feels as if its being constricted. Like a snake has wrapped around each individual lung, growing tighter with every erratic beat of his heart.

The demon interrupts him before Steve has the chance to say anything else

“It was only intentional at first,” the dark class admits remorsefully. Desperately ashamed of his actions. “When I first met you... I never meant for you to have the other dreams.”

Steve recalls the vivid dreams that had worked their way into his sleep when their bond was still new. Still stabilising. How he had felt the demon's touch in ways that had felt so real that his body could only react. Unable to resist the hands trailing across his spine and the gentle grinding against his body. Making him blush with heated skin, bashful and dazed with the sensation the dreams had left him with. Until they eventually... became real.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Steve gasps, blue eyes widening like two swelling ocean jewels.

“I wanted you to desire me. Because I _yearned_ for you. I still do.”

“You... Oh my gods... How could you do this to me!”

The demon flinches at the cadet's rising tone, as if he can taste the younger man's anguish at the back of his throat. Unsure what to do, what to _say_ to make everything okay again, the dark class can only allow his reasons to slip from between his lips.

“I didn't plan on this happening.”

“Then why the hell did you come through the gateway?! Why the _fuck_ did you allow yourself to bond with me?” Steve isn't just angry, he feels _betrayed_. Like the demon has always had this ulterior motive that the blond never had a chance of knowing, for it's something the dark class has always avoided. But now, when Bucky finally, after so long, begins to explain his actions to the little warrior, it makes the pinkness of his frustration burn across his cheekbones.

“From the moment I sensed your aura in my realm... I sensed your _soul._ I knew I had to find you. I knew you had to be mine!” The demon's words are laced with an urgency, like a reflection of a desperate time that still remains cloaked in darkness. And yet the confusion that such a confession brings spirals the younger man's anger.

“My soul?” Steve scoffs, for none of what Bucky says makes sense. And yet the demon seems so sure of himself, albeit repentant. “You manipulated me!”

“No! I-”

“You controlled my dreams!” The blond cries out, tears forming in the corners of his eyes and yet he refuses to let them cascade.

“I couldn't help it! You make me lose control, Steve!” The demon snaps, as if a dark flame has just ignited inside his core. When the cadet winces in response, Bucky forces himself to take a deep breath before continuing. “The nightmares you've been experiencing, have been fragments of my own memories, and I never intended for you to see them. I didn't want to hurt you. When I realised you've been seeing them when I slept, I tried to prevent them. But it's difficult to control my powers when I'm with you!”

For the demon, Steve is like an endless forest. He can easily get lost in the younger man's intoxicating scent and the beauty whenever his eyes land upon him. Bucky is far more instinctive than calculating with the little warrior by his side. But that also means his power is too. The slight lack of control over time has grown, until the demon's past slowly began to leak unknowingly through their bond with the aid of Bucky's ability.

It wasn't just a fraction of his memories Steve has witnessed in his dreams, it was a part of what he fears the most. And that is Steve experiencing all of what the demon never wants to be reminded of. Although, with the ongoing war around them, forgetting is hard to do.

“What the fuck, Bucky! Stop trying to make excuses! You should have told me. You should have trusted me,” the younger man rebukes the creature of darkness.

“I trust you more than anyone in either realm, Steve. When I'm with you, my chest gets tight and I can feel my body pounding and all I can think about is _you_. Protecting you.” Bucky's sincere words are accompanied by his fingers reaching out to clasp the blond's thin wrist. Steve's veins _thump thump thump_ under his touch, startled, and yet he cannot find it in himself to pull away; utterly entranced by the demon's confession. “I can't see myself living without you anymore! You make me feel things I never thought I would.”

“How could you keep this from me? You should have said something! You shouldn't have manipulated my dreams in the first place!” The blond exclaims.

“I didn't want to hurt you. That was never my intention. I just... I didn't know we would come this far. I never thought I would feel this way about someone,” Bucky admits earnestly. For it's nothing but the truth. The demon could never lie to him about such a thing- his feelings for the younger man overflow right from his core.

“Stop it! Let go of me!” Steve pulls against Bucky's grip, but neither being moves so much as an inch. Despite that... the cadet does not feel trapped.

“Listen to me, Steve. I beg of you. I- we don't have a word for it... What you mean to me, what I _feel_ for you... What you do to my body and my _mind._ But, Steve... It would undoubtedly be called love.” The demon steps closer to the smaller man, lowering his gaze before searching for blue orbs. Bucky speaks so softly, and yet with a firmness that makes his words undeniable. “What I feel for you, is _love.”_

“Don't-” Steve's weakly spoken reply is cut off.

“ _I love you.”_

“Stop-”The blond whispers, his heart feeling as if its skipping beats, or perhaps it is both crumbling and swelling at the same time.

“I love you so much.” Taking another step forward, the demon presses into the younger man's space, the tips of their boots knocking together.

“Bucky...” All the blond can seem to murmur is his demon's name. Almost like some instinctive response. And yet it pains the demon to hear it spoken with such distraught and distress.

“Please, forgive me. I never meant to cause you any pain. So please... _please_ forgive me, for I can never forgive myself.” The dark class cranes his neck so that his forehead can tenderly rest upon the blond's as he listens to the smaller man's shaky breaths.

“Bu-cky...” Steve's voice hitches.

“Steve, I... I am so sorry.” Voice soothing, the demon kisses away the stray tear that streams down the side of the cadet's face.

“Bucky.” More salty droplets gather to drip down the smaller man's cheeks, the brim of blue eyes becoming reddened and shiny. Lashes flutter close before reopening to meet silver-flecked irises that implore him with a sweetness. A raw emotion that twinges and convulses through the stretch of their blond.

“I love you, Steve.” It's just a whisper but...

It's overwhelming.

“I-”

The blond gasps when a concerned, familiar voice cuts him off, looking to the side where a figured has emerged from around the side of the building.

“Hey... Umm..” Sam coughs as if to clear his throat. Though it's more to do with the fact that he's not sure what to say. “Is everything okay?”The cadet takes a prolonged glance to where Bucky has Steve's wrist, and then to the smaller man's tear-stained face.

Steve pulls against Bucky's hold, forcing the demon to reluctantly release his grip to allow the blond to step back. He quickly wipes his eyes with the backs of his index fingers as he takes he takes a deep, lingering breath.

“Everything is fine.”

Steve's heart feels as if its breaking. Shattering into a million fragments, and he's not sure how to put them back together. He feels ripped apart... but he also feels whole.

“Okay, well, we need to get going to the meeting,” the other human informs them.

“Yeah, I know. We'll catch up with you in a second,” the blond assures him.

“Alright, then...” Sam hesitates, gaze analysing the situation, biting his tongue to keep his thoughts to himself. But after an indecisive few seconds, he turns around to slowly leave the bonded pair after casting a final glance over his shoulder.

Certain his cheeks are dry, Steve goes to follow Sam when Bucky takes his shoulder to twist him back around to face the demon.

“Please don't walk away from me,” the dark class pleads.

“You can't possibly know what love is...” It's all Steve has the courage to say. The only words he can muster. Even if he says them so softly, as if physically drained and weakened. His mind is in chaos, and he's not sure how to bring it to peace once more.

“I know what my feelings for you are, Steve. I've been in this realm long enough to know what its called.” Bucky takes his hands, putting them flat against his chest upon the rough fabric that if Steve listened hard enough, he would hear the demon's heart beat through it. “I know you can feel my love for you through our bond.” With a slight smile -though eyes pained- the demon then brings the cadet's fingertips to his lips. “I won't ever stop loving you, my little warrior.”

A kiss to those soft pads, sharp knuckles and silky palms, Bucky kisses all the way down to the tenderness of his inner wrist before whispering: _I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	43. A Battle of Darkness, And Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ Forty-two:  
> **Confessions from Bucky occurred- of how he can manipulate dreams, and ultimately, his love for Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **IMPORTANT!!!**: I've added a '45th chapter' which will be like an acknowledgements page, and it will also provide information/a preview of 'The Origin of Shadows' The Demon Bond prequel (Bucky's backstory), and there will also be an announcement about something else there too. I'll probably also include translations there too for convenience. 
> 
> Also, we're over 1400 kudos now?! How insane! Thank you all for your support. I'm so nervous about posting this chapter but here it is ahaha I hope you all enjoy reading, only one chapter left after this...

“I-” Whatever the blond was going to say, Bucky doesn't get to hear it.

“Steve! We need to go!” Sam shouts, head poking around the corner of the building with his impatience.

“Alright, I'm coming,” Steve huffs, slipping from his demon's hold. The smaller man jogs to catch up with his friend before meeting Sam's ambling steps. Bucky follows them, a grim expression etched into his face.

“Are you sure everything's okay?” Sam questions him quietly, as if trying to make sure the dark class doesn't hear them. Not that there's any chance of that- the demon can hear every word, regardless of how softly spoken.

“Yeah, just... Let's just focus,” he requests with slumped shoulders and folded arms.

A shadow flows across the path ahead of them, and Steve looks up to find Redwing flying above them. His wings batting against the warm air before gracefully landing on Sam's shoulder. The demon glances behind them at the dark class, hunching his wing at the cold glare he receives.

They soon join the rest of the soldiers who stand at attention near the stationed vehicles. Fury observes them from the front with his own demon silently next to him. Coulson is leaning against one of the trucks a little ways behind them. If Steve didn't know any better, he would think the tension in their rigid bodies is because they're _afraid._ Perhaps even more so than the soldiers gathered in front of them, for they know what to expect more than any of them.

“The position of the gateway has been confirmed. We plan to send six units of teams to the centre of the area with the equipment needed to close it. The gear is heavy, and getting it to the gateway is our top priority. For this mission, you will be our main unit,” Fury announces. In the firm set of his lips and the slight angle of his brows, even from where Steve stands he can see that even the old soldier has his doubts. _About how many of them will make it out of this alive_. It's almost as if they're all being thrown into a murky tank full of hungry sharks. “We can also confirm the presence of a dark class demon in the area. Exercise extreme caution on this mission. Expect the demon to be there rather than not expect them to show up. He's already killed one soldier today.”

But all the while... Steve cannot forget Bucky's confession. He can hear his demon's words ringing in his ears more than the old soldier's orders. He had frozen, stuttered and blushed and his anger and sense of betrayal had faltered. Torn between his heart and mind, Steve is unsure of where that leaves him.

“Is everyone clear with the plan?” Fury waits for the faint, uncertain nods. He doesn't push them for a more pronounced response- there's no need for it. The soldiers understand that this will be the biggest battle they've ever faced... and quite possibly will ever be subjected to. “Then you're all dismissed. We set out at the first sign of daybreak.”

A part of him feels like he should have known... but how could he have? It's _unreal._ Like he's in a dream that he can't wake up from. One where both the dark and light have intermixed until Steve can neither tell them apart, nor choose which one to give into.

But does any of this change the way he feels about Bucky? Steve knows the answer to that.

        

Steve tosses onto his side, his back, then onto his side again upon the hard ground. A rough blanket is draped over him and despite the lamps that radiate heat, it is Bucky's body next to him that keeps him warm. The demon's back is arched against the crusty wall, legs crossed as he watches the blond stir with silver-flecked eyes.

The soft breathing in the room is a clear sign that the other soldiers are sleeping soundly, the rest of the _Avengers'_ demons only somewhat resting near their respective humans. They sense the tension in Bucky's aura that permeates the entire building; reacting to it like frightened dogs that fold in on themselves to escape the demon's wrath. But it's entirely unnecessary. Bucky doesn't desire to move away from the blond, even for a mere second. He's not irritated or outraged, but _ashamed._

Bucky understands that his actions had been rather selfish, and if he could take back and change them... Well, the demon isn't sure. This feeling... His relationship with the younger man is as new to the dark class as it is to the blond. Bucky's past has shaped him, and although he's surely made mistakes (more than he can count) he only regrets three things.

One: manipulating Steve's dreams when they had first been bonded.

That was wrong. Bucky knows that. His actions had been compelled by the desperation... the _need_ to feel something and for Steve to feel it too. He should have been patient, and Bucky has learned that.

Two: not telling the blond the reason behind his ~~nightmares~~ visions of Bucky's past and greatest fear.

Instead of running from ghosts, the demon should have let loose the chains of his memories. Should have told the blond instead of pretending none of it happened. Should have soothed the blond's worried eyes and not have tried to make him forget what he had seen. Should have controlled himself and spent more nights watching over the younger man than relishing in the calm the blond's scent and quiet snores bring him.

Three: not saying _I love you_ sooner.

When did Bucky realise that he loves Steve? It's something that has grown over time, a fragment of his heart one by one reflecting the human until his chest became crowded by the sensation. There is no such word for the depths of his feelings for the cadet. That stubbornness, those blue eyes, shining smile, his carefree laughter... How golden stands catch in black lashes when his fringe becomes too long. The biting of his lower lip when he's nervous, or merely just thinking too much. The _tap tap tap_ of his pen against the desk whenever the smaller man is stuck on a word, or contemplating something else entirely. His questions and how his eyes brighten with knowledge and his interest in the demon's life.

Bucky loves every part of him.

Every. Single. Part.

Even the parts that make the demon flash his anger.

When Steve's questions go too far, when he presses for answers too much. How the blond cares for others and wants nothing more than to help them- the demon has never understood why... But his feelings for the blond have given him a new perspective: how life is so, so precious.

Steve sighs to himself, twisting onto his other side so that he now faces his demon. Although the blond's eyes are closed tightly, he still knows exactly where the dark class rests. With one hand planted underneath his head, the other lounges right in front of him, smooth palm facing up. The blond slides those knuckles just a few inches across the floor to align with Bucky's knee. A fraction of a second pasts, until stronger, warmer fingers cover his own.

It is then, and only then, that Steve's heart settles and he finally falls into a realm of numb dreams.

        

“Everyone got all the supplies they need?” Skye asks them, clipping her tepid water bottle onto her belt. The soldiers give an affirmative grunt, gathering their blankets and pushing them to the side- they'll only weigh them down.

The mission calls for the bare necessities: guns pressed against their hips and bullets digging into their thighs. Water in case they have the time to take a sip when the sun inevitably gets to much for their skin. Protective jackets, for they need to take precautions, even if against extremely high level demons they'll provide little defence to their bodies. And that's that.

In the end, their greatest chance of survival comes down to themselves. The bond to their demons and the power that flourishes through them, manifesting in the form of a weapon. Being in a team, then makes them that much stronger. It gives them that higher probability of not seeing their own blood splattering on the ground like the leaves falling off a tree when Autumn comes.

The sky burns orange in the morning light, a more than welcome relief from the artificial illumination of the buildings. There's a breeze that only tames when they pass between humming vehicles. Surprisingly, the blond doesn't feel nervous. That is, until they are forced to wait for the order to move out. The prolonged moment of stillness unsettles the soldiers.

Adrenaline pours throughout their vessels, readying their limbs for the battle ahead. But hormones cannot prepare their minds, only their five years of training can -though the _Avengers_ are yet to complete it- but even then, it's sometimes not enough. There are soldiers who have spent decades fighting demons, and for some of them, fear remains in their minds. They've just learned not to show it.

In the military, one's life is merely an asset in the form of a bomb waiting to go off.

Fortunately for the military, they are creating more of those bombs every day. And everyday, like clockwork, some of them collapse and rupture. They have always known what they're getting themselves into, but that doesn't stop any of them. Only makes them more determined. Gives them a sense for survival. A desire to live. A desire to protect. And that... more often than not, gives them the upper-hand when it comes to fighting cruel creatures. At least as cruel as they appear to be to humanity.

“What do you think it'll look like?” Clint suddenly asks, disturbing the silence that had clouded over the _Avengers._

“What will what look like?” Tony frowns, fiddling with the eyepiece in his hands.

“The portal to the Netherworld.”

“The same as any other.” Rhodey shrugs, though his body has a fearful strain running within his muscles.

“Well, we've never seen a natural gateway before. Only ones we've created,” Bruce counters as he pulls at the sleeve of his jacket.

Although it is true that humans are able to open gateways with the use of demon-tech and symbols, very little is actually known about how non-human made portals come about. Whether they are merely random rips between the two realms, or if some demons are able to create them is still something being tested. Since thousands of years ago. It's a topic of increasing debate, and the subject of much scientific work.

For all of their efforts, they have nothing to show for it. No one knows what the demon realm looks like. They've sent drones through the gateway, only for interference to destroy the equipment in less than a second. They've even tried to send soldiers through but... in extreme cases where they have been instructed to immediately return to the human realm once through the gateway... they've not once come back.

Whatever is out there, beyond the glimmering, pulsating light... is a world untouched by humanity. A world that belongs to demons, and only demons.

It is frightening to consider. At least when said as a nightmare fairy tale to young children. _Be good, or the demons will take you into the Netherworld._ There's so many theories that it's hard to recall them all. What exactly the Netherworld is like...

A blaze of red fire; flames that spill from endless pits and cracks with an atmosphere full of dense smoke. Some theorise that it's an intense, complex underground system like sewers for rats. While others say that the Netherworld is nothing at all. Just darkness that has no beginning and certainly no end. Just a blank space filled with creatures beyond one's imagination. Beings that have been nothing but nightmares since they first stepped through into the human realm.

“Let's move out, they have the tech ready to transport,” Skye commands, though more for the benefit of her own team.

Steve catches on and nods his head once in a signal to his friends to get going. As soon as they begin the trek towards the fiend-riddled desert, their demons immediately follow behind them. Obeying silent commands that have become second-nature to them over the years. Although they never had any choice in the matter (well, almost none of them) they have grown a tolerance to their human counterparts. Like wild animals that become conditioned until their initial indignation towards humans fades into a calm temperament.

In all honesty, very few soldiers tend to see demons as actual living, breathing creatures. In the military -especially in the elder generations- they treat their bonded demons like they aren't the reason for the power that they are able to manipulate and control. _Mutt_ is a term spoken lightly. But even without verbal abuse, bonded demons are still treated no better. Demons who aren't being used for battle, pleasure, amusement, or show-cased are left in containment until they are needed. It's not actually a life. The more Steve considers it the more he feels relief that he never once discarded Bucky in such a way. Especially knowing how intelligent the demon is: both mentally, and emotionally.

Changes should be implemented, as far as the blond is concerned. Bonded demons are vital to the war against their own kind, so although humanity cannot give them up if they wish to survive... Perhaps the situation should be approached differently. Then again, Steve supposes that the risk of a bonded demon turning on their human is too great a risk to take.

A dull black Jeep with an open back curves around the rest of the vehicles, large grey boxes strapped securely to it. The crates have symbols embedded into their surfaces, though the blond doesn't have the chance to decipher them as it passes the soldiers. The truck whirs and drones as it shifts into the centre of the large group, allowing the numerous teams to protect the vehicle once they firmly get into demon-territory. Getting the tech close enough to the gateway so that it can be built is the ultimate purpose of the mission, for it is the only thing that will allow them to close the gateway.

The _Avengers_ are towards the back of the large unit, most likely placed there for their inexperience compared with the other soldiers present. It's rather intimidating, but the cadets are not put off by it. Skye and the rest of _Agents_ lead the unit at the very front, their pace somewhat quick and setting the tone for the mission.

_Reach the gateway. Eliminate demons. Wait for the gateway to be closed. Get out._

Maybe if they follow that unspoken plan, they can be back at the academy in time for dinner. But in reality, it's easier said than done.

They are no more than thirty minutes into the demon-seized zone, when four fiends are detected at close proximity. They flare up on the digital maps of their watches like tiny fragments of glass catching the light, the signals not quite distorted just yet. Alerts showing them to be on the other side of the nearby streaked sand dune, two teams break from their formation in search of the demons. The soldiers form a scattered line of defence, observing the demons who move as one until they cast their shadows over the desert hill.

While one of the demons is fixed into a muscular, feminine human form, the other three take on the appearance of wolf-like beings. The large canine-morphed demons must surely weigh two-hundred pounds each to the best of Steve's estimates. Black, patchy fur roams their dark skin, their spines continuing into two flicking tails and their padded paws ending with extensive, curved claws. One of them has a ripped ear, an old wound that has long since healed. But they all have two pairs of slit eyes, white as if to contrast the yellow of their jagged fangs and the red of their panting tongues.

The one in human form carries a shining orange spear that gradients into a deeper hue as it nears the sharp tip. Her hair is short, choppy and tangling around her ears like ginger flames. Eyes completely black except from the red irises in the centre, it feels as if she could burn the soldiers with just her fierce gaze. Skin tanned with an almost golden shine, a black pelt wraps around her chest and her hips in the bare minimum amount of modesty. Though it seems more like she's wearing it as a trophy than anything else.

It's difficult to predict the class and levels of the demons in the momentary pause they give the soldiers- although they are all certainly Warriors. But as soon as the first human steps forward, loud screeching howls ring through the air, forcing huge gusts of wind to sweep up golden particles towards the soldiers. The teams closest to the demons stumble, while the others put up their hands to protect their eyes from the flying sand.

The wolf-like demons are clearly Wind classes, perhaps ranging from level fifty to sixty. Which is all well and good, except from the fact that there's three of them working together, akin to a pack. Steve supposes that's exactly what they are. However strange it still is to see fiends cooperating in such a fashion. The blond can only conclude that it has something to do with the gateway, but there's also the increasing possibility that it's down to something far more complex than that.

The three demons leap down the sand dunes towards the soldiers who still attempt to approach the fiends. Steve watches them carefully, manifesting his shield and feeling the weight in his grip as if such an action provides him comfort. The fiends are bullet-quick, dodging the weapons until an electric bomb catches one of them off-guard; sending the demon soaring backwards, scraping its flesh against the ground with the drag of its huge form.

The demon remaining at the peak of the hill snarls at that, as if both disgusted and irritated by such disruptive actions. However, she doesn't make a move towards the soldiers. As soon as the fallen demon jumps back onto its feet, she raises her spear high into the air, before sliding the weapon swiftly into the sand under her feet.

For a mere second, nothing happens, but that second of peace doesn't last long. The wind classes begin to cry out, the air twirling and picking up speed in an effort to disorientate the humans. Specks of red join the gathering gusts until a whirlwind forms right in front of them. The soldiers don't get the chance to assume the fourth demon's class. It becomes all-too-clear as amber sparks increase until the vortex becomes aflame like a raging deity.

To say the soldiers are startled... is an understatement. For demons are differing classes to _combine_ their abilities is unheard of. Such a rare occurrence that it's only thought to be in theory. And theory only. But... clearly its not a thought of fiction anymore.

Swirling fire burning their faces with the intense heat -even from where the _Avengers_ stand to the back- the level of the fire class fiend can only thought to be around level seventy. Certainly no less. Not with such a deadly, sinister smirk written into the upturn of her crimson lips.

Soldiers with bonded water class demons lead the way, manifesting their weapons and using them to strike the whirlwind in whatever way they can, effectively decreasing the density of the flames. Cuts, tears, explosions... such actions carve a pathway to the fire class demon who begins to slowly descend the crumbling sand dune with a scowl set between her eyes.

It doesn't take too long for a group of soldiers to disarm her, tearing her limbs brutally apart. As soon as her body collapses in a limp mess on the ground, the other demons hesitate as their growls echo through the desert. They don't have the opportunity to get away though: the _Avengers_ offer assistance without a word to catch the fiends unaware. But only after Steve had glanced up at the dark class in a silent question.

_Do they obey the Kyosw?_

A slight nod is all the blond needed to motion to his teammates to approach the demons- weapons ready and hearts beating fast like music blaring within their chests.

They encounter little trouble after that, only coming across a few small groups of demons of varying classes and types. But all of them are of a relatively high level. And all of them, seem pretty damn angry. As if in some sort of desperate rage. Steve gets the feeling that there are a lot more demons than the cadets had first predicted. Instead of a few dozen, it's looking more like a couple hundred.

In terms of numbers, even with the great amount of bonded units spread out across the area, Steve isn't so sure that the war is as balanced as they once thought. It's an anxious feeling that gnaws at one's insides, slicing into fleshy lungs until the impending sensation thrums as loudly as the adrenaline. Although it makes the soldiers feel more _alive,_ in consequence, it makes them realise just how severely their lives are at risk.

A pulsating light catches the attention of the soldiers, and quite honestly... it takes their breath away. Droplets of sweat running down their foreheads from a recent battle, their bodies are filled with a sense of tranquillity as their eyes become entranced by the gateway. They've walked for hours under the hot sun, and yet now... their mission is becoming that much more real.

The gateway glimmers like fragments swirling in on themselves, twisting and expanding only to contract just a fraction. Dazzling with vibrant silvers, blushes of white run along its edges with tinges of grey in its very centre. It's so big that Steve has to crane his neck up to take in the whole of its pulsating form. Like a lonely, fallen star amongst a barren wasteland. It is most definitely a beautiful sight.

If it wasn't such a startling sign of danger, the cadet may even feel privileged to see it.

The maps displayed on their watches begin to fracture, signals becoming distorted undoubtedly by the open gateway. There's a lone demon slouching on the ground in front of it, seemingly asleep in a humanoid form until it senses the soldiers and the low hum of the truck. Lifting up it's head from where she sits on the warm ground, the fiend snarls at them.

Four thin, transparent green wings cover her back, the larger pointed pair peeks out two feet above her head while the smaller wings stretch down in line with her hips. But both sets have a blue shine to them that catches the light of the gateway in such a way that it's almost as if the soldiers are seeing her aura.The demon's eyes are odd-coloured: one a dark brown while the other glints as a forest green. There's an essence about her... like an innocence.

Although undeniably a seducer with the thickening succulent scent in the air, she has the form of someone young. Perhaps even Peter's age, even though Steve knows that she must be much older than that. Wavy brown hair with tousled green strips embedded with woven blue flowers bounce around her thighs as she struggles to stand. Body covered with a white dress, the blond notices the tears at the hem- as if it had been caught in something and tugged away.

She may be beautiful, but deep within her core, she is a demon. And that is all the soldiers see when they gaze at her: a monster.

The truck halts in place, the humans taking a step forth towards the creature. But before the soldiers can get any closer, she instantly backs away, an expression of _fear_ etched into her pale face. Her form vanishes into the gateway, leaving a trail of purple flowers that quickly die in the burning heat of the desert.

They hesitate. Under no circumstances should the soldiers follow the demon through the gateway, which only means they are left staring where she once stood. But for some strange reason, the blond isn't wholly convinced that she was running from the soldiers. When Steve glances up at the dark class, Bucky shakes his head in rejection of the idea of the demon working for the _Kyosw._

Four scientists hop out of the vehicle, unbuckling the boxes of equipment and asking a few of the soldiers to aid them in getting the tech in proximity of the gateway so that they can begin the process of closing it. The rest of the soldiers use the momentary calmness to take a breather, their gazes running across the chalky horizon. Steve's body aches from the strain of fighting under the glowing sun high in the sky above them. He's already helped to bring down nine demons, but even when the gateway closes, there's still going to be demons remaining in the area. The cadets can only assume that it's going to be an awfully tiring, drawn-out day.

But when this is over, the blond is all-too-aware of the fact that he needs to speak with his bonded demon. Preferably in the privacy of his own room. Steve isn't sure what to say. He knows what he _wants_ to say. What he desires, yearns for so desperately. And yet, there's something holding him back, confusing his heart with facts the blond could have never predicted. The mere thought of Bucky being responsible for his dreams, even if they grew slowly unintentional... Steve isn't sure what to think of that. He knows that the heated dreams back when they had first bonded are not responsible for the feelings he has for the demon- but they certainly encouraged him to see Bucky in such a light. The darker dreams on the other hand, are a completely different matter.

Steve does not feel resentment towards Bucky for those nightmares. If the dark class is actually speaking the truth -at last being brutally, truly honest with the cadet- then the younger man can only feel shattered at knowing what Bucky has been through. What surely the _Kyosw_ has done to him. Steve can see just how horrific the demon's darkest memory is. Knowing that the dreams have been a mix of that, and what Bucky fears the most is... the blond just wants to hold his demon close to his chest and tell him that he's not ever going to let any of that happen again. They're both going to make it through this alive, Steve knows it. And perhaps once the _Kyosw_ is dead, then those dreams of being chained and bloodied may disappear like a gaping wound that is finally allowed to heal.

But until the fight is over, it's not the time to be thinking about his heart. So no matter what Bucky has ~~said~~ confessed to him, regardless of the emotions he feels in return... The demon will just have to wait for his reply. Hopefully by then, the cadet's thoughts will have more order to them. Or rather, he'll figure out what to say to the dark class. What he yearns to say, and what he needs to say to eradicate the demon's guilt, forgive his past, and forget the ghosts.

Steve is bringing his water bottle to his lips when Bucky touches his arm, pausing the cadet's movements. The blond raises a brow at the creature, cheeks rosy in exertion while the dark class edges closer. Pushing into the cadet's space until he's able to lower his head to breathe into the shell of his ear.

“There are two demons approaching from the South,” Bucky warns him, silver-flecks expanding until the blue of his irises fades completely like rocks concealing the ocean. “I recognise them, they work for the _Kyosw._ You must be careful, they are powerful.”

“As powerful as you?” Steve asks softly with just the slightest of grins. Falling into old-habits like the weight of the world doesn't crush their shoulders with each passing moment.

“Not quite, my little warrior.” Bucky smirks, that devilish one Steve has come to memorise and-

The blond swivels on his feet to face his teammates who kneel and stand in the non-existent shade, sweat dripping from their brows. A quick motion of his hand gathers their attention like how one might beckon to trained dogs. Before the _Avengers_ can warn the other teams, a flash of red and white light flares from the perimeter instead. Two bulky figures storm out of the crackling fire, their feet thudding against the ground like bangs upon a drum face.

_Warriors._

They approach the soldiers as humanoid forms, chests naked and dusty from accumulated earthy sand. Black cloth wraps tightly around each leg from their taut hips to their ankles, leaving their feet to pad unprotected across the harsh landscape. With each step, one of them leaves small circles of orange fire, while sparks of white bounce from the other's strides.

_Fire Class. Electricity Class._

But what unsettles them the most... It's not they are clearly very powerful beings. It's not that they could tear the soldiers apart. What terrifies them is far more simple than any sense of their physical power. Their faces are hidden by chipped, skull masks; akin to those of deformed humans with ram-like dark horns protruding from them.

The soldiers don't have the time to get over the initial shock, needing to throw away their fears into the desert immediately, for the demons are coming right at them. Like two bulls ready for a fight. Steve manifests his shield, the weapon ready before anyone else's and therefore forcing him to take the initiative to reciprocate the assumption of battle.

Like an innate response, the blond's shoulder rolls back in its socket, muscles tightening before swinging the sharp weapon through the air. Within seconds, it knocks abruptly against the fire demon's chest with a deep slice, pushing him back into the sand. However, when the shield rebounds off-of the other fiend, it gives the electricity class the fraction of an instant to be able to dodge the weapon's edge. But the distraction the shield brings, allows the other soldiers to hone in on the demons.

Although exhausted, the humans need to dissolve their weary thoughts while on the battlefield. Especially while powerful demons attempt to balance the scales of war in their favour, to extinguish human lives as if their existence is like mere flies to such creatures.

It takes all of them to keep the scorching blazes at bay, and even more so to dodge the lightning strikes that bombard them the second they stand still to catch their breath. By the blond's estimates, they both must be at least level eighty... though close to ninety is more likely. However, like all demons, with teamwork they can be taken down. Even if it takes sweat and blood to do so.

The rogue demons are weakening from the assaults, and Steve knows that the only reason the soldiers stand a chance, is because his own weapons contain the great darkness of his bonded demon. They cut the battle short and most certainly reduce the number of casualties. However, with the two rogue demons working together, not even the experienced soldiers can stop themselves from getting burnt and bruised from their combined attacks. But still, a few wounds is nothing compared to the idea of death.

Steve clenches his right hand, black swirls entangling around his fingers as he prepares to manifest the knife that will undoubtedly deliver the final hit to whichever demon's chest it becomes embedded in. However, a darkness in his peripheral vision distracts him. The two demons occupied by the endless onslaught brought about by the soldiers, Steve glances to where a patch a black covers the ground.

Crouching down to inspect it further, he reaches out his hand into the substance, brushing his fingertips upon the hot surface. Then, sweeping his palm into it, the cadet brings it up in-line with his chest to the watch grains of darkness fall from the creases of his hand. Steve frowns as the sand patters back onto the desert floor like a pool of warm water.

“Steve.”

“Hm? What is it?” The younger man looks up at Bucky, those silver-flecked eyes firmly locked onto the glimmering gateway like a predator searching for prey.... or perhaps it's the opposite of such a scenario.

“We need to leave,” he replies instantly, sternly with his gaze not once leaving the entrance into the Netherworld. The demon seems ~~_agitated worried panicked_~~ _afraid._

“What?” The cadet hauls himself back up, recognising the tension in Bucky's stance and the tightness of his shoulders- as clear to him as the sun burning above them.

“We need to go. Now,” Bucky instructs, finally turning away from the portal to take the cadet's arm rather forcefully. The shield within his left grasp dissipates in a cloud of shadows, accompanied in time with a puzzled frown embedded between the cadet's brows.

“What for?” Steve shrugs off the demon's hasty touch. “They haven't closed the gateway yet.”

“He's here.”

“Loki?”

“The _Kyosw,”_ he reveals, tone deep and dripping with a darkness, his words uttered from fear and they send a chill down the blond's sweat-dampened spine. Feathers slice through the unrepaired slits upon the demon's back, briefly scraping through the powdery sand before his wings spread out across his sides.

Steve can feel his heart beat quickening like a rhythm of a song preparing for the climax. But each warm pulse of his vessels only makes him feel cold. Chilled to the very core as his mind comes to a stuttered stop in an attempt to process reality **.** But before the cadet truly has the chance to register Bucky's words -to prepare himself for their meaning- the gateway begins to distort.

Silver hues turn to black, shining fragments dulling as streams of thick shadows swarm out of the portal. They come out at such force, that it sounds like the beginning of a thundering storm. It disrupts the final efforts from the soldiers, pausing their strikes and lashes in favour of covering their eyes from the sand that threatens to blind them.

Bucky pulls the blond into his chest, wrapping his arms around that slender frame, black wings barricading him from the vine-like shadows pouring through the area. Within seconds, they are surrounded. The soldiers can only see the lasting remains of the sun until that too is blocked from their frightened gazes.

_Silence._

It rips through the air like a cloak that resembles the bleakest of winter nights, almost as if it could take the air right from one's throat. Bucky's wings lower just enough for the blond to perceive the blue eyes in the darkness.

Blue eyes that Steve instantly recognises.

They're undeniably the eyes from his nightmares, and without so much as a flicker of doubt, he knows that they belong to the _Kyosw._ It's almost as if he's reliving those bloody, metallic, gritty dreams. He can feel the sand underneath his fingernails, the cruel shadows drifting over his form. To expect a bloodbath would be an understatement, for more demons crawl unseen through the gateway, sneaking up on soldiers and yet awaiting the command.

“ _Weytz,”_ the death class hisses _,_ voice piercing right through the cadet's trembling chest.

For the first time, in what seems like forever and a day, the blond is truly, utterly afraid.

The shadows thin until there's a just a wall of darkness around them, as if trapping the soldiers in a room meant for nothing but slaughter. The humans jolt when more high-level demons are unveiled; at least a dozen of them slither, drag and haul themselves around the edge of the black barrier that cuts off the sun's rays. Taking on different forms, they have never seen such a diverse group of creatures that wish to take their lives. Both humanoid and animalistic, and some look exactly as demons should in tales meant to keep children awake at night.

The gold of the sand beneath them has become tainted with the very same colour of death that still wraps around the _Kyosw._ Each human's vision is filled with an abyss-like darkness and growling fiends. Bonded demons shift as their stares dart across the plain, instinctively moving closer to their respective counterparts as more demons seep through the black walls having heard the commotion.

“ _Weytz,_ Ejy xaefe zyolpwefre bal uai,” the _Kyosw_ growls, as if he could tear the whole world apart with those perilous blue of his eyes.

_Winter, I have been searching for you._

“Swyu fotyk uai Zatfeit Efiozal feahq.” The death class laughs lowly to himself as the vines of shadows begin to dissipate from around his limbs, but the coldness in his eyes doesn't fade.

_They call you Dream Invader now._

“Waq bessefr.”

_How fitting._

The untangling darkness reveals a human-like figure, a creature Steve could never have imagined. They are far more frightening and ferocious than any demon the cadet has laid his own eyes on. With deeply set, sharp cheekbones and sunken eye sockets, the demon's face resembles a skull. His flesh seemingly raw with its crimson, shiny surface.He wears a leather-like black coat that envelops his chest with thick straps that loosen around the demon's thighs. Around his waist rests a tight belt, a silver star etched into the metallic buckle. Black gloves and a white smile, his viscous smirk is the signal the rogue fiends have been waiting for.

All at once, like a grand storm finally sparking across the sky, the demons unleash their attacks upon the soldiers. Simultaneously, the death class lifts his arms up in one swooping motion to his chest, forcing stretches of darkness to lash out towards the bonded pair before him. Bucky pulls the smaller man to the side, shielding him from the dense shadows that reek of decay. But the darkness follows them, bashing and burning at Bucky's wings before bouncing off of those sleek feathers, only to vanish into nothing but stuffy air.

Bucky's eyes glow silver as he clutches the blond to him, unable to do anything else until the attack recedes like a flock of birds regathering. Steve's hands are pressed between their chests until he manages to slip them onto his demon's shoulders, stubborn eyes begging the dark class.

“Bucky, we have to fight him!”

“We should go!” Bucky only pleads, his wings shrouding them in their own secure darkness.

“No! I'm not leaving my teammates here,” the younger man refuses without second thoughts.Taking his demon's jaw between his palms, the rough stubble there is a welcomed, comforting familiarity in the heat of the desert. “This is our chance, Bucky.”

“Steve-”

“We can do this. Together,” he assures him with as much certainty as he can project from inside his lungs. The dark class seems torn, his gaze pained, teeth clenching as another wave hits them as brutally at the first. Black wings twitch and throb with an ache that feels as if every bone in those limbs are fracturing.

The other rogue demons act as a distraction, preventing any of the other soldiers (including the _Avengers_ ) from reaching the blond to offer help. He is seemingly alone in this fight -even if he has Bucky by his side- as the death class begins his earth-trembling steps forward. Steve can only vaguely hear his teammates shouting, but it's not enough to pick out the individual words of unease.

“Bucky?” Steve desperately presses the demon for some sort of response. He needs the dark class to be with him unconditionally in the battle that has presented itself to them. With a reluctant sigh, the demon nods his head- he would never leave the blond's side. Not ever.

“Let me give you more of my power,” Bucky pleads firmly, cupping the younger man's face to urge him closer. Steve doesn't resist the touch, rather, he melts into the caress of Bucky's lips against his own.

The cadet can feel their bond thickening with the influx of power that courses through it, like huge bolts of electricity with the warmth of a fire like no other. It seeps into the human's veins, sinking into his cells and wrapping around his very core.

The demon breaks their kiss after just a moment, pulling back to stare into the blue of Steve's eyes. Neither say a word, at least nothing that is spoken from their mouths.

_I'm with you._

As soon as the wave of shadows relents, the pair step away from each other, feeling the tug of their bond resist. Manifesting the shield, the blond almost drops it when an inky purple fire spreads over its surface. Although Steve can feel its heat like a blush across his cheeks, it doesn't hurt the human. The knife materialises into his right grip with a mist of darkness that caresses his skin tenderly. Tiny shadow vines entangle at his wrist and fingers before fading away. However, hot white and black sparks persist in their place, fizzing from the blade's sleek structure.

The bonded pair face the death class head on, both shield and wings up to protect themselves from anymore shadow-waves. But not even their willingness to battle _Schmidt_ can ease their mind at his malicious smirk. Bucky's arm clenches, ghosts scratching and digging to the forefront of his mind, almost as if he's experiencing his past all over again. Except, there's this amber glow that radiates from the cadet beside him, and the demon has never been filled with such love for someone. Not even a fraction of what he feels for Steve in this moment.

Metallic arm clenching, the dark class shifts on his feet, glancing once at the smaller man before flashes of purple flames appear around his hands. The blaze expands along his limbs, reaching from the broadness of his shoulders to the sandy ground beneath their feet. He's swamped with a dire need to protect his little warrior; to be able to cherish him and hold him in his arms when the ghosts have relented their torture. Killing the _Kyosw_ will not make those memories disappear, but it will make them cease their hauntings of his every waking (and sleeping) moment.

At once, Bucky manipulates the vibrant blaze, propelling it towards Schmidt with the goal of a distraction in mind. The fire provides a blind-spot the blond uses to their advantage, swiftly moving alongside the fire that refuses to burn his skin. However, the _Kyosw_ cannot be fooled by such childish tricks- he can sense the cadet's movements upon the darkened sand. Having barely moved a few feet, a black vine ruffles heated grains as it twists around the human's ankle. The tether harshly jerks the blond, disrupting his balance and tripping him into the rough ground, the weapons dissipating in a cloud of black smoke.

Twisting to find the tendril still firmly wrapped around his ankle, the cadet yelps when it tightens its almost-bone-crushing grip. On battle and survival instinct alone, the blond rapidly creates the knife once more, pulling on their bond until the weapon rests upon his palm. He cuts at the vine, tearing it with as much strength as he can muster, slicing at the flesh-like substance before it rips into two, only then to froth into a mist.

Straining back up to a stand, the cadet's eyes instantly search for his demon. His brows knit together in worry at the scene laid out ahead. Schmidt is slightly taller than Bucky as their fists attack and block one another's throws and punches, though Bucky's wings conceal most of the violence from view. The death class growls and hisses like some rabid animal, angered by Bucky's resistance. But at the same time, it's like watching a predator toy with their struggling prey- the mix of hate and amusement in those blue eyes far from seeing his opponent as a threat. It's almost as if he can perceive the embedded fear in the silver of Bucky's irises.

Just as Bucky's metallic knuckles are about to collide with Schmidt's jawbone, the Kyosw's gloved fingers grasp his fist, catching the dark class by surprise as he forces him back effortlessly. Feathered wings scraps against the sand like a crow that has fallen from the heavens, dust gathering up in the air as the the dark class comes to an abrupt stop thirty feet away. Steve can only stare with wide eyes as a throaty groan leaves his bonded demon.

Although Bucky manages to get up onto his knees, even from where the blond stands, he can see the demon's nose oozing blue liquid. His feathers are tousled, painted with a dull layer of grime and the smallest flecks of blue. Luminous silver eyes wander past the Kyosw's steadily approaching form, only to find Steve's panic-stricken expression.

With a low growl, full of the desire to protect, the dark class attempts to steady himself on his feet. However, a mere flick of Schmidt's wrist has ropes of shadows piercing bruised wings in an action that effectively chains Bucky to the ground. Watching the _Kyosw_ tightening that very same hand, Bucky can feel the air to his lungs being cut off. He lands with a thud back on his knees, sand shifting around him as fingers clutch at his throat as if that would will oxygen back into his chest.

Bucky can feel it already... his mind numbing with this _decay._ With each unfulfilled breath, the demon's body weakens as Schmidt laughs viciously from where he towers over him, casting him in a shadow only if the sun's rays could reach them. Blue eyes are like ice with the scent of rotting flesh hanging in the mist of the shadows around the beings. There's distant shouts and screams emitting from the soldiers, and just as loud cries and shrieks from demons.

“ _You shouldn't have run away, Winter,”_ Schmidt chuckles in their demonic tongue. As if he finds nothing else more entertaining than seeing the dark class in pain.

However, the extraordinarily powerful death class has made a simple mistake. A vital error in his plan: he has discarded the bonded human as a threat.

Steve cannot pick out their one-sided conversation from the echoes of the commotion around him, but he can still see his demon. _His Bucky._ In pain and gasping for air and yearning for the relief of the blond's touch. It started out as a wisp of some emotion... and now, his emotions for Bucky entangle every vein, fibre and cell throughout his aching body. It's heavy in his chest and swells within his heart until it feels as if it's bursting like an overwhelmed dam.

Their bond thrums with that deep-running emotion. That wonderful sensation Steve isn't willing to ever let fade. No matter what. Not ever. The dark class means everything and more to the blond. Shown him remarkable things he not once thought possible. Bucky has opened his eyes to an unthinkable world. One that he's only discovered just a fraction of, and yet his mind is no less engulfed by such knowledge. The demon has also shown him what it means to feel a undying desire for another being. Their emotions have developed and matured together without either of them truly realising it... until those very same emotions have outshone every other thought in their mind, taking over their instincts and shifting their priorities. In a world where chaos reigns, they have found peace within their bond, and their hearts.

As if being dipped in honey, the manifested knife begins to transform into an orange, amber-like hue. As if a part of Steve's aura is being embedded into the blade; soaking it with his pure affection for his demon. Becoming one with Bucky's darkness.

He can feel Bucky's intense pain, vibrating through their connection and causing his knees to shake. But he fights through it, standing firmly upon the moving black sand.

_He's not afraid._

Without a thought, his boots shove against those inky grains as Schmidt growls threats to the dark class at his feet. Torturing him with words of the past- how _weak_ Bucky has become as blue blood drips from the black of those feathered wings.

It doesn't take more than a moment for Steve to be close enough. The knife leaves his grip in an instant. Spinning through the dim air until it cracks and splits into the back of the _Kyosw's_ head. Schmidt slowly twists his neck to contemplate the blond warrior panting for breath with his adrenaline just a few body lengths away. The area around the wound begins to crumble like the sand beneath their feet. The pure hatred in the demon's expression is enough to make even the oldest soldier shiver with fright. But Steve...

_He's not afraid._

Not when Bucky finally gasps for warm, sweltering air, just as Schmidt hisses in distaste and something he's never experienced before: death itself.

With the remains of his power, the _Kyosw_ abruptly reaches out his hand to the blond, sending a final wave of shadows piercing through the air. Steve manifests the sleek shield just before the first black fragments reach him. Tiny shards cut into the flesh of his legs like pins, and yet he doesn't truly register the stabbing pain with his blood pumping so desperately. The cadet keeps himself steady, bracing himself against the attack that's almost like a blizzard, right up until the second it comes to a sudden halt.

The shield dissipates without warning; Steve's breaths are heavy in his chest as a cold sweat breaks out on his forehead. Those terrifying, deadly eyes turn wholly white, sending a flash of frozen fear down the blond's spine.

_He's not afraid._

The _Kyosw_ collapses to his knees, his tilting body melting into black sand, leaving a deformed skeleton in its place. With a thud of bones upon the ground, the rogue demons cease their attacks, squealing as silver marks appear on their arms, only to be seemingly burned off of their skin. In confusion, the rest of the soldiers stumble, the battle faltering as they assess the situation they have been thrown into.

However, the little blond warrior... he can only focus on his demon. Released from Schmidt's dark hold, Bucky is able to push his metallic palm against the earth, forcing his relieved form up from the small pools of his own blood. When he meets the cadet's gaze, he can only smile.

Steve lets out a tiny bolt of laughter, his body gradually coming down from the battle's high. He wants nothing more than to run to his demon, but Bucky is already making his way towards the cadet. The blond goes to take a step to meet the dark class with a smile, when Bucky's joyful expression distorts and it stops him right in his tracks.

Brows furrowing with confusion, he can't quite interpret the demon's thin grimace and the sudden glint of realisation in those silver-flecks. A look as if Bucky has lost everything; as if the world around him is changing into an eternal abyss and he can do nothing to stop it.

Steve follows the demon's gaze down to his own chest, at the crimson that paints his legs and the dust upon his pounding body... and the large shard embedded in his stomach. The adrenaline ceases, and with that, the inevitable pain comes. Slowly at first, as if he can feel the sharp point digging into his flesh as his mind comprehends the piercing agony.

~~_He's not afraid._ ~~

The black shard of darkness begins to crumble just as the shadows around them begin to fade to reveal the desert sun once more. Steve's hands shake over the disappearing fragment, unsure what to do. This isn't something he prepared himself for as the unbonded demons scatter across the area; beginning to flee back through the dark gateway that fades into its natural silver.

When the fragment vanishes completely, Steve automatically presses his fingers to the wound, pulling them back to stare at the red that coats his hand like crushed rose petals. With an instinctive wet cough, dark crimson liquid taints the red of his plump lips. Looking up at his demon, the cadet doesn't manage to voice a single word before he feels his legs collapsing under him.

Bucky reaches him just in time to catch him mid-fall, cradling him in his arms as his wings pull up to protect him from the burning sun. The shadowed ground begins to turn gold once more, shining with warmth across the desert, except underneath the blond's pale form. The sand is as black as death itself, reddening with the blood that drips from the cadet's gaping wound.

“Keep your hands on it,” the demon commands, a never-before-seen distress worrying his features.

“How bad is it?” Steve asks, his tone trembling as a shiver cascades over his form like a glacier sliding through his vessels. “The bleeding isn't stopping.”

“Wait a moment,” Bucky urges him, metallic hand hovering over the younger man's stomach. A purple fire begins to emit from his fingertips, growing until it gently burns across the palm of his hand. Steve gasps at the sting, fear flooding his thoughts when the demon scowls, his eyes glowing silver as he pulls the cadet tighter against his chest. That very same fear washes over and fills the demon's expression

The blond can hear the dark class muttering under his breath, demonic tongue saying _'No. No... No. It's not working!'._

The cadet isn't healing: his wound is as open as it was when the shard had first left his skin.

“Bucky?” The demon's name is said as an unstable quiver. He already knows what the dark class is going to say, but that doesn't mean that he wants to believe it.

“Steve, it's not working,” Bucky murmurs ~~regretfully~~ desperately, leaning in to press their foreheads together. The human groans softly, for he can taste metallic liquid at the back of his throat and it takes all his lasting effort not to cough the blood onto his tongue to clear his airways.

The demon is quiet in contemplation. Too quiet. Even with Bucky's wings shielding them, casting them in a tender shadow, the smaller man can still see the tears gathering in the silver of those eyes. Bucky pulls him closer, even tighter if at all possible. But the demon's warmth isn't enough to sooth the suffering ache he feels.

Steve's shaking right hand glides up to the demon's neck, touching just above the sleek collar, before caressing up so that his palm presses against Bucky's cheek. The demon wants nothing more than to press into that touch, but he's too focused on the fire at his fingertips. Almost as if enough concentration could change the fact that red is soaking through the cadet's jacket. It's only when Steve beckons to him, that his gaze snaps up to connect with the blond's.

“I-I lo-ve you,” the younger man stammers, barely able to speak and yet he knows that he has to say it. Should have said it long ago. “Bucky...”

With a throaty cough, the blond's eyes widen when he feels a trickle of blood running down his chin. The sharp pain in his stomach causes a startled gasp to leave his parted lips.

“I know you do, I know, my little warrior,” Bucky hushes softly.

“I'm scared, it hurts... so much,” the cadet cries. Bucky's hand beside his upon the wound on his abdomen does little to dull the intense pain. Purple flickers grace the torn flesh, tentatively pressing against and seeping into the wound, only to turn black like the darkest of depths.

“I know, Steve. It's going to be okay. Trust me,” the demon pleads. The sobbed reply makes Bucky feel as if his heart is being ripped into insignificant pieces. Overwhelmed with this new sensation that the demon can only relate to a mixture of dread and despair.

“I do...”

“It's okay, shh, shh.” The demon's metallic hand shifts to stroke through golden locks, wiping away blood from pink blossom lips. “It's alright.”

“Bucky...” Deep breaths are beginning to seem out of reach as the blond's chest jolts with quick inhales of damp air.

“ _Shh,_ just breathe.”

“Ah, I-I can't.”

“Shh, Steve,” Bucky coos, though he can feel his own lungs constricting. Especially as he looks into blue orbs that swim with the tears that run like a river down his face.“You don't need to be afraid, just close your eyes.”

“Bucky...” Steve can feel his mind becoming hazy, as if his thoughts are crumbling away like sand just as the _Kyosw_ had. His heart is throbbing urgently, body struggling to cope with the trauma.

“I'm here, I'll always be here,” Bucky promises sincerely. “But you need to close your eyes... it won't hurt anymore.”

The demon only yearns to take away the blond's pain, for the human was able to ease the torment of his past. He wants the younger man to be okay, because Bucky has nothing else. Nothing. Long ago, the cadet became the only thing that mattered in the loneliness of the two realms. And he will be the only thing to ever matter to the demon of darkness.

“Bucky...” Steve whispers hopelessly, his voice on the verge of cracking. “I don't want to die.”

“It's okay to let go, Steve. You don't need to be afraid,” he soothes, fingers entangling with dampened golden strands as their noses bump together. He can perceive the smaller man's wheezing breaths as he clings on to life. “Let go.”

“I love you.” _So much._

He wants to say more but he can't quite put it all into words. Just how much Bucky means to him- how important he is. What a big part of his heart the demon has taken up. How warm his touch is, how tender and graceful and Steve can't help but treasure each shared moment, and he yearns to say that he never wants it to end and yet...

He wants to say _I forgive you_ but he knows the demon understands that already. Bucky knows it all: it courses through their bond and strengthens it to the point that their connection has become practically unbreakable. A force like nothing anyone has ever witnessed... something that many thought impossible.

But here they are, under the hot sun in the middle of an empty desert. A demon embracing their bonded human with a deeply-embedded emotion guiding his every gentle action.

“I love you too, Steve.”

For a moment, the pain eases into a blurred ache, the faintest of smiles on those ruby lips. Blue eyes stare into silver-flecked ones with a gaze burning with his ~~fondness~~ ~~endearment~~ ~~passion~~ _love_ for his demon. Until, after a few short seconds, long lashes begin to flutter, concealing those ocean-saturated irises.

Then, a final, broken inhale. The blond takes his last breath, chest rising before it falls with the release of a cooling gasp that echoes in Bucky's ears. After a mere second, his body goes limp in the demon's desperate hold. The sound of Sam screaming in the distance as he tries to reach them fails to register with the dark class, for Steve's blood covers the demon's arms and chest and he can't... He can no longer hear the blond's heart beating. A stubborn, clear droplet cascades onto the blond's cheek as Bucky places a kiss to those warm lips before they and the pink of his skin turn to a pale grey.

Bonding with Bucky may have been the most foolish decision Steve ever made, but it's not one he regretted.


	44. Let Chaos Reign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary of previous chapter~ forty-three:  
> **The Kyosw (Schmidt) came through the gateway, causing chaos with his shadows and forcing Steve and Bucky to kill him.  
> **However, killing Schmidt caused Steve to suffer a mortal wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter of The Demon Bond... here we are after.... a year and a half! Wow, never saw that coming ahaha I will stress that 'Chapter 45' is acknowledgements/ preview of The Origin of Shadows, and that'll be up very soon.

The demon won't let go of Steve's body. He clutches him to the soaked material of his chest, even as the blond rapidly begins to turn cold in his embrace. He can feel their bond disintegrating; like a bridge between two mountains that has ruptured under the forces around it. But the dark class refuses to let the sensation inside him evanesce as he feels the loss of the cadet's warmth and stubborn eyes.

Boots thud apprehensively against the golden sand, until they come to a gradual stop in front of drooping wings. Black feathers dip slightly, allowing Sam a glance at what the shadows contain. The cadet steps back in shock, devastation wrecking his every thought. Casualties were expected but... that's _Steve_ in Bucky's arms. Not some faceless soldier. The _Avengers_ are without a leader- that possibility never once crossed their minds. But Steve is dead. _Gone._ And now Sam is without his best friend...

But the blond isn't the only one to have lost their life: the scientists who were attempting to close the gateway lay in bloody heaps on the floor, the soldiers who aided them just as lifeless beside them.

“Fuck...” Sam swears under his breath as two military vehicles enter the area. He can spot more scientists obscured by darkened windows, and undoubtedly, Fury. They must have got the warning Skye had sent out before everything turned to darkness. “You need to let him go, Fury is coming.”

Sam edges closer to the demon, but the low growl in response abruptly stop his movements, the warning vibrating from the depths of Bucky's chest. Silver eyes glow viciously from the shadows framed by blue-tinged feathers.

A loud, penetrating slam of one of the truck doors immediately catches Sam's attention. Fury strides from the vehicles, his demon traipsing behind him as if he would rather be anywhere else. But all of the bonded demons appear like that, for Bucky's aura clouds the desert in an unseen darkness that reeks of rage and the stench of grief.

“Get that gateway shut now!” Fury commands, sending the three scientists beside the second vehicle away to finish off closing the portal... before any other beings can cross the realms and cause even more destruction.

The old soldier storms closer to Skye, his black coat flicking side to side. There's a hardened vexation in his gaze as he demands information from the worried-looking woman.

“What happened here?”

“There was a death class demon, sir.”

“A death class? Where is it now?” Fury questions with a scowl, as if trying to fight back the concern he feels for the fallen and wounded fragments of humanity he can perceive across the sandy earth.

“Rogers took care of it, sir.”

“And where is Rogers now?”

“Uh, I'm not exactly sure... It was hard to see but I think-”Skye begins to stutter, before the old solder dismisses her thoughts in favour of pure truth.

“Where is he?”

“With his demon, by Wilson over there.” Gesturing to the other side of the immediate plain, Skye watches as Fury turns his back to her, his boots sinking somewhat into the sand as he makes his way to the patch of blackened grains. Like soot from a scorching fire, it surrounds the area beneath the dark class demon.

As Fury approaches them -with as much caution as he should have when nearing such a creature- his own demon hangs back with out a word. Redwing circles the air above them, keeping close to Sam without actually being in reach of the hunched dark class. The _Avengers_ have gathered a little way to the side, unsure of how to deal with a situation that never once occurred to them. They are more than slightly wary of the demon who clutches their leader tightly to his chest, far from showing any hint of letting him go.

“Wilson, right?” Fury's tone is a fraction more kind- more _considerate_. He's not mindless to the loss one feels upon the death of a teammate, and he's certainly not naïve to losing a friend in battle.

“I-yes, sir.” Sam coughs to clear his throat, blinking forcefully to prevent the tears of shock welling in his eyes. For a desert so hot that it makes sweat drip down their spines, the cadet feels awfully cold.

Fury instantly notices the blond protected in the demon's arms; then he sees the blood, the thickened black pool of sand under him and the skin too pale to contain life. The old soldier's once stubborn expression has been replaced by a delicate _knowing._

“Let's get his body back to the base along with the others,” the old soldier advises with an intelligible expression. As if a wall has been rebuilt between his actions and his emotions. Or perhaps, Fury has just become numb after so many years of active duty. “We can burn them there.”

Just as Fury goes to lean closer to Steve's fragile body, the demon reacts violently to the notion; his wings thrash, lifting grey particles into the air as a snarl constructs from between his lips.

_“Don't touch him.”_

Frozen in place, Fury says nothing. Not out of fear, but in analysis of the demon's abnormal behaviour- though it's not as if the soldier hasn't had a glance at such actions before. The innate desire to protect the younger man in his arms is not something Fury is ignorant of. What seems like forever ago, when Fury had pulled a loaded gun on the cadet and tightened his finger on the trigger without thinking twice, the demon's intentions with the human became that much more known to him. Although actual speech is new... Fury decides not to say anything. It isn't the time for an interrogation.

“The gateway is closed!” A light voice shouts from where the portal had once been gleaming with fragments of silver. It's outer layer has collapsed in on itself, becoming smaller with each drawn-out pulse until just a white orb remains. But after a moment, that too vanishes in a hot flash.

As the demon's wings drape across the floor, Sam has a glimpse at the wetness in the silver-flecks of Bucky's eyes, and the cracks along the surface of his collar.

Other soldiers from the first vehicle contemplate their watches, checking for demonic signals before joining Fury in confusion of his paused actions. However, when they reach within ten feet of the dark class, Bucky automatically lets out a rumbled growl. His wings fluttering anxiously, and yet with a ferocity of a wild animal being cornered. The old soldier beckons the other humans away, nodding to Sam whose eyes are pink and wide in shock.

With a final glance between the two, Fury heads back to the vehicles to converse with the scientists. Sam is left feeling pretty... helpless. He's not sure how he can persuade Bucky to move, nor give Steve's body up. Honestly, he's not sure how to get his own feet to move. Sam can't comprehend going back to the academy without the smaller man. It's a strange thought, and it makes the cadet sick to his stomach.

“Bucky, we need to... We need to go back.” Sam tries to convey the importance of his words, and a promise he isn't sure he will actually be able to keep. “I won't let anyone take him from you, but you need to move yourself otherwise those soldiers are going to make you. If they do that, they'll take him too.”

The dark class is silent, forehead pressed longingly against the blond's, as if that mere action holds the potential for blue eyes to reopen with a smile. To kiss Bucky's lips while murmuring to him _I'm okay._ But the cadet doesn't move an inch unless the demon does so, and even then, it's hard to perceive any sign of life in the blush-absent cheeks. Bucky only wishes for the soldiers to leave him be; to let him hold Steve close. However, weakened from Schmidt's brutal assault, he knows he can only do so much in this moment. Although Bucky has more than enough power to take on the humans and their demons, he can still hear Steve's serene voice in his ears. It puts him in a position of what he _wants_ to do, what he _needs_ to do, and what he _should_ do.

He wants to hear Steve's heart beating in time with his own. But right now, as a spot of darkness amongst a seemingly endless golden desert, the demon can only allow himself to be gently persuaded from isolation. But only by someone Steve undeniably trusted. Even if the demon doesn't particular like that certain someone.

With a reluctance akin to giving up a one-sided battle, Bucky's metallic arm shifts under the back of the blond's knees, while his right stays firmly around those slender shoulder blades. The demon's knotted, sticky feathers cave in as a sort of veil around the blond. But they certainly don't hide the sharp anger in Bucky's gaze as he stands with the blond held tightly against him. There's a moment of hesitancy from Sam before he leads the demon towards the vehicles.

Bucky doesn't have to be told once, let alone twice, to get into the truck with symbol-encrusted sides. Not that they can truly contain him, but the humans do not need to know that. Not yet. The demon needs to wait for the right moment to escape from the academy's clutches. Although he's uncertain when that time will inevitably be, the one thing he is certain of is that he will not allow them to have Steve's body. Not ever.

The engine hums and groans before the tires grip against the sand to begin their way back to the outlying base. The journey is full of jolts and low reverberations, and for the demon, a dull darkness. Bucky can sense the humans and bonded demons walking beside the vehicles throughout the excruciatingly slow trek. Although Bucky cannot see any of the sun's light through the vehicle's thick metallic walls, he can sense the shift from a heated day to a frozen night. When the truck doors are pulled apart to reveal the silver, misty moonlight, the dark class wavers before clambering out of the vehicle without so much as shifting the blond in his arms.

Eyes and whispers follow his every movement, cautious of the (technically) unbonded dark class demon. Bucky can feel it disintegrating as a torturous pain in his chest, and yet he refuses to let go of that sensation. In the eyes of the academy, and every human on earth, he is without a soldier. But even now, the demon still feels connected to him, and the amber aura that hasn't quite faded. Bucky clings to it as if it's the only light left in the entire world. A lonely candle flame in an eternal abyss.

Sam joins Bucky upon the worn-out path towards the buildings, subconsciously allowed just a fraction closer to the demon with the hardened stare. Along the stretch of dingy buildings, are neat lines of fallen soldiers that are only being added to after the recent mission. White cloths have been draped over the bloodied and bruised forms like ghosts laid out on the dusty ground. However, they bypass them completely with the _Avengers_ following slowly behind them as they head to one of the buildings where smoke rises into the glittering stars.

Inside are rows upon rows of square-doors that open up to reveal dark chambers with grids built in to allow flames to engulf the bodies of the dead. A heat so fierce, that only ashes will be left where there was once a solider. The warm, grey powder produced are all contained in metal urns to protect them until they reach the soldier's next of kin. Although that may be standard procedure, Sam knows that he will beg and plead to take his friend's ashes to Sarah- she doesn't deserve a stranger or a mere box to inform her that her only son has been murdered in battle.

They're barely in there a few seconds when Fury enters, the rest of the _Avengers_ waiting outside away from the unpredictable dark class. Although there are tears in Sam's eyes, he cannot afford to show such mourning until they are back in the security of the dorms. Though he has a feeling he hasn't got anywhere near as much heartache as the demon beside him.

Fury unlocks one of the compartments, pulling out a metallic tray one would only associate with a morgue. He motions to Sam before leaning against the wall at the other end of the room; allowing himself to watch without interfering or interrupting whatever the dark class must be thinking.

“You need to put his body in there before it starts to rot,” Sam says quietly with a sniffle, before letting out a sigh of defeat. “You really did love him, didn't you?”

“I still do,” Bucky replies honestly.

“He's gone now.” The cadet watches the demon with an unresolved expression before glancing over his shoulder at Fury. “I don't know what's going to happen to you.”

“I don't care.”

The demon's blunt reply somewhat unsettles Sam, for he's not used to interacting with the demon without Steve there to mediate their every word.

“I know... I just... Steve wouldn't want them to hurt you.”

“They can't.”

“Right...” The cadet scoffs, eyeing Bucky's unmoving form in his peripheral vision. “But they could perform tests on you. Your bond was so strong and you being a dark class-”

“It doesn't matter.” Bucky cuts him off sharply, eyeing the cold metallic level that almost seems too big for Steve's body to be settled upon.

It's several minutes later of pure silence until the demon willingly lets go of the blond's form, lowering him onto the platform that protrudes from the wall in line with his chest. The dark class understands that the bodies of the fallen soldiers must be dealt with before the inevitable stench seeps into the air, but the demon is still reluctant... or rather, he doesn't feel ready to let go of the embodiment of the only one he has ever loved.

Steve's death has left an agony where there was once an innocent pleasure of the vibrations of their bond. Their combined emotions of glee and contentment have come unwound to leave the demon with an eternal yearning to feel Steve's aura glowing brightly around him, instead of the tiny fragments that have been left as his energy dissipates.

Buried or burned, one's energy upon death will gradually unite with the earth again. Auras fade as one's very essence weakness, eventually giving strength to another being in the inevitable cycle of energy in birth and decay.

But there's still something that remains unchanging, unknown to humanity, something Bucky's shadows had found and wrapped themselves around all those years ago. And he will cling onto it until his own very last breath.

Gently situating the younger man's body upon the warm metal, the demon lifts his head slightly to remove the bloodied pendant before taking the smallest of steps back. He places it around his own neck as Fury comes forth to slot the platform back into its rightful position. With a _click_ of the door, and a buzz of a switch, the cadet's body is instantly engulfed in a vibrant, pulsing fire.

There's a small window to view the chamber, and the dark class presses his metallic palm upon its scorching surface. Simultaneously, purple flecks of a dark fire join the orange flames. It would be a beautiful sight, if it weren't so utterly _morbid_. Bucky's chest feels as if his heart is being tugged and squeezed, snapping his ribcage in the brutal process, although he knows that it's only their bond finally breaking completely.

For a moment, the demon's breath hitches, or rather, the air in his lungs disappears altogether. His muscles twitch and fill with a devastating tension that makes his unseen aura of mass darkness cave in, only to stretch out into the room once more with the return of silver-flecked orbs. His wings settle against his back, his own wounds taking far longer than usual to heal, but at least they are healing.

It seems to finally register with Sam that Steve is truly dead, for a sob leaves his lips before he has to force himself not to allow the all-consuming tears to drip down his cheeks.

“He needs to go into containment,” Fury informs the cadet with a furrow of his brows, before walking out of the building entirely- there are other circumstances that beckon to him. He doesn't so much as look back over his shoulder at the tense dark class demon: he doesn't believe him to be a threat. At least not right now.

“Well, I'll try to do what I can for you...” Sam offers as he watches the demon's hand drop back down to his side. Although he notices tendrils of shadows and flickers of amber swirling around his metallic fingertips, the cadet doesn't bother to question it. “But I need to take you to a containment facility for now, alright?”

Although Bucky doesn't give a verbal reply, he does glance at the cadet with eyes that have been subjected to more torture than the demon could possibly handle. Something has suddenly changed in his demeanour, but the cadet chooses to say nothing in the name of grief as he leads him to a small, make-shift containment facility embedded into several of the trucks. There are other unbonded demons hissing and growing in their respective cages of different sizes, but the dark class doesn't so much as flinch as he's coerced into a metal box just big enough for a horse.

Sam promises to come back soon as the door squeaks shuts and bolts in place to cut off the moon's heavenly rays. However, the cadet doesn't ever see the demon again. When Fury checks on the dark class not five minutes later... Bucky is gone.

There are no shadows or silvery eyes, nor coarse feathers or the shimmer of a metal arm.

All that is left is a fragmented collar amongst splatters of blue on the cold metallic floor.

        

Sam opens the door with whined creak, only to gently let it shut behind him as he takes in the dimly lit room. Steve's laptop is just where the blond had left it before he had gone home for his birthday; untouched with dust gathering along its sleek surface. Although the soldier had offered to clear out Steve's room, and therefore his belongings, it doesn't make Sam think the situation any less bizarre. It's odd being in the smaller man's room without him and his demon there too. If anything, it's making him rather uncomfortable.

But _of course_ it does. Steve only died less than forty-eight hours ago.

With a breathy sigh, Sam supposes that he can take the laptop and anything else worthwhile to Sarah when he goes to see her soon. He hopes that will be tomorrow, for delaying the inevitable news any longer just wouldn't be right. He's unsure exactly what he's going to say to her, but it's a safe bet to assume she'll know as soon as she opens the door. Honestly, Sam is dreading her expression, but he knows it's the right thing to do.

Just as his fingers reach the desk, a blue mass in his outer vision catches the soldier's attention. He turns to it in perplexion, analysing the neatly placed journal and the sheet of folded paper that leans against the firm pillow. Upon closer, intrigued inspection, Sam realises that the paper has his own name inscribed onto the front of the note.

Grasping the paper with confusion written across his face, Sam smooths out the folds before reading the familiar writing.

_Sam, I have a favour to ask you. That is, if I haven't made it back from the mission... alive._

_The blue journal is my own, and I want you to not only read its contents, but show them to the world. It's about time our secrets be revealed, if only they can lead the way to change- to a greater understanding of our demons. I know that it might be difficult to digest, but I firmly believe that such knowledge can help us to achieve some sort of coexistence. Bucky is... unique in many ways, but he is not the only creature of intelligence- and perhaps you will have seen that by time you make it back from the mission._

_I must seem rather certain that you will have made it back to New York safely. But I suppose if anything it's only my greatest hope that you and the rest of the Avengers do. Of course, I will try my best to return alongside you. However, there's far more powerful, crueller forces within the two realms, and I fear that they will come not only for myself, but Bucky also. If that happens (or rather, if that's what happened) I will do anything to protect Bucky, even if that means putting my own life in danger. I know that he will do the same for me. But if it somehow isn't enough... then I can only hope that it is you who finds this._

_Although I am sure you will do this without me asking... please make sure that my mother is safe. That she has everything she needs and that she's as okay as she can be. Ensure my savings go to her, and let her know that there is letter that I wrote in a book on my desk for her._

_And if I may ask one more thing, and I know that I have perhaps asked too much already... Please make sure Bucky is okay. Don't let them take him, and don't let him hurt anyone._

_Thank you, for everything._

_~Stevie_

With the smallest of smiles, the soldier folds the note into his pocket before tentatively grabbing the journal. He hesitates opening it, until curiosity seems to get the better of him, and he finally starts reading.

“What the...” Eyes scanning through the numerous pages of curled, rushed writing, Sam can barely take in the information that has been neatly organised. It quickly becomes apparent that the journal entails knowledge about demons. Their language, hierarchy of power, how they can perceive auras and that their ages aren't exactly what humans thought them to be. There's even more, but most of all, the text details the existence of written energy known as the _Xelsw,_ and a death class demon of extortionate power. _“Shit.”_

The journal tucked under his arm, Sam immediately bolts out the door. Running down the corridor past Clint and Tony, then down the stairs, almost knocking into Bruce in his quick-paced descent. He's out the door into the blistering heat of the day before any one of his teammates has the chance to question where he seems to be heading so desperately.

Truthfully, Sam isn't completely certain where he's going, but he does know who he's trying to find. There's only a limited number of areas the soldier could find Fury. With the new influx of first years, it wouldn't be a waste of time to seek them out to consequently locate the old soldier. Fortunately for Sam, that logical thinking pays off.

“Sir!”

Fury turns from reprimanding the new recruits in favour of addressing the heavily-breathing _Avenger._ To say that the red-faced cadets appear relieved by the intrusion would be an understatement.

“What is it, Wilson?”

“You need to read this.” Sam holds out the journal to the older man.

It's a risky move. Then again, every one of their actions since they first bonded with their demons had the potential to put them in danger. Right now, Fury could decide to destroy the journal's contents, or even take it and refuse to follow its intended purpose and use it for pure military means instead. However, the soldier needs to take that chance, because Fury is the only one who can effectively control the release of the information, and push it in the direction towards gradual change. There are certainly benefits to being so high up in the chain of command.

“What is it?”

“I found it in Steve's, uh, Rogers' room.”

Fury takes the journal with an unreadable expression plastered upon his features. His gaze tracks the black ink across several pages before pausing; dismissing the first years who instantly scurry away eagerly like a flock of frightened birds.

“I think it might be time for a meeting with the president... and every broadcasting channel worldwide, hm?”

“Yes, sir.” Sam nods his agreement.

“It's time we change,” Fury murmurs, as if talking to himself, but his voice is loud enough for Sam to perceive him clearly. “It's time for us to evolve.”

“I couldn't agree with you more, sir.”

        

“Hi, Sarah, it's good to see you. Wait, no, that doesn't sound right. Sarah, I'm so sorry but... _Dammit_... Sarah, I wanted to be the one to tell you that Steve is...” Sam drifts off with a pained groan as he walks across the cracked pavements with ambition in each of his steps.

He can't seem to find a way to say that her only son hasn't made it back home. Well, technically he has... but his ashes in a metallic urn with only his name and the dates of his birth and death engraved into it doesn't exactly make it feel as if Steve is with them. In fact, Sam is still trying to process it himself, and the blond's remains do nothing to lessen the blow of reality. It's just still too much to comprehend.

In truth, he thought that Bucky (being so powerful) would be able to protect the blond, and although he supposes that the demon did so, the fact that it wasn't enough makes Sam feel sick. The possibility of there being a demon more powerful than Bucky isn't something that Sam had really considered before; fiends of such high level are already rare. And therefore to come across one capable of more harm than the dark class, on their first mission as 'graduated' soldiers just seemed unlikely. But considering Steve's journal, it all makes that much more sense.

Still, regardless of the death class being defeated, Sam isn't sure what to make of Bucky's disappearance. He doesn't know if the demon is in this realm, or back in the Netherworld. If he's alone or with another being. If he's alive and thriving, or suffering from the loss of his bond to Steve. For all the soldier knows, he could be dead.

The only reason there is for Bucky being able to survive their bond being broken is that it was done so naturally. This way, Bucky's immense power gave him enough fight to keep on living despite the blond's death. Sam is certain that if their bond had been broken forcefully, with the use of a ritual that attacks the bond itself, both human and demon would have died. Fortunately, the former was the case, allowing their bond to slowly disintegrate as Steve's life-force faded. Although Sam is sure that the demon doesn't feel particularly lucky having survived. That is, if Bucky is indeed alive somewhere out there.

As Sam approaches the apartment complex, Redwing lets out a chirp as he swoops over the soldier in the form of a silver pigeon. Strolling up the cigarette-littered pathway to the main doors, Sam slips through with ease as his demon's wings catch in a gust of wind. While the human takes the moulded stairs, the demon glides up alongside the building until he finds a sheltered spot upon one of the windowsills of Sarah's apartment, just as Sam knocks rhythmically on the door.

His stomach feels as if it's twisting in on itself, leaving a nauseating coldness in his abdomen. The soldier would clutch it if it weren't for the chest-sized box in his arms. Sam can hear light footsteps approaching, then the twist and click of the lock. When the door opens, the soldier knows that the confused look in those blue eyes won't last for long.

“Sam?” Sarah's head tilts slightly as she takes in Sam's neatly pressed uniform. “What are you doing h- Oh God, no.” Her voice begins to crack, eyes welling with tears as she takes a step back. “Please no.”

Fingers pressed against her lips, Sarah turns away, leaving the door open to allow the soldier to slip through before he gently kicks it shut with his boot. Placing the box carefully on the wooden cabinet, Sam then wraps his arms around the woman's shoulders. Sarah lets out a sob that rips into the soldier's heart.

It takes a long time and a several tears of his own for Sam to soothe the woman. They eventually settle on the sofa, mugs of cooling tea in their hands; the herbal scent filling the room. The situation should perhaps feel a little awkward, but if anything Sarah has only ever shown Sam kindness in the years he has known her, in a way that the soldier can't help but see the woman as a second mother. However strange that may sound.

Now that someone who they both cared deeply about has passed, they can share their profound grief, and lesson the burden in their chests. Sam feels as if it's his duty to make sure Sarah continues life despite their loss- he's unable to refuse what Steve has asked of him. As if somehow Sam owes him, although if anything, the soldier has been keeping Steve's secrets for far too long.

“Is James okay?”

“Excuse me?” Sam looks up from the rim of his steaming mug.

“James Barnes, Steve's partner,” she confirms, though a little put-off by Sam's frown. “In your team?”

“I don't-” Sam's perplexed expression falters when he realises who Sarah must be referring to. Though its not as if there could be any other explanation. “Ah, I know him by Bucky.”

“Hm, I think I heard Steve call him that once,” Sarah smiles softly, as if seeing the innocent interaction playing out in front of her before coming back to reality. “I would have thought to have heard from him. Unless...”

“He didn't make it either,” Sam says regretfully before taking a deep sigh. “Actually, I think you should know something. I think Steve wanted to tell you, but he just wasn't sure how.”

“What is it, Sam?”

It's another prolonged moment before the soldier firmly decides how to handle the matter. Perhaps it would be best in Steve's own words, that way, Sarah may know just how serious the cadet was about the demon.

The soldier stands abruptly, placing his tea on the small table before reaching into the box that he had brought with him. He shifts inside the box of Steve's belongings -his urn already placed carefully on the side temporarily– until he takes out a sheet of paper. The page is inked with writing, although lacks the corresponding indents from a pen.

“Here.” Sam offers it to her. “I need to get going, but this is a copy of the first couple pages of Steve's journal.”

Sarah takes it with one hand while she plants her mug down with the other. Holding the sheet, the woman stands to walk the soldier to the door.

“Ah, one thing before I go back. Steve wanted me to tell you that he wrote a letter for you, it's in a book on his desk,” Sam explains before his voices becomes incredibly softer. “Will you be alright?”

“Yes, thank you, Sam.” Sarah smiles, albeit weakly. “Take care now.”

“I will,” the soldier bows his head slightly, gaze darting to Redwing who rests against the far window. The demon catches the stare, and takes flight without the verbal command. But before Sam heads out the door, he just has one last thing to say. “He died a hero, just so you know. He saved us, all of us...” With a nod and thinly pressed lips,he turns on his heels with a grim smile. “Goodbye, Sarah.”

The woman lifts her hand slightly in a solemn wave, watching Sam disappear down the corridor. As soon as the soldier disappears, she automatically locks the door before wandering to Steve's room. There, in the dimness, she discovers a letter pressed between two pages of a book on demons. Not only does it contain the instructions on how to take Steve's savings from his account, but also something that she wishes her son had trusted her with.

She both sobs and smiles at the confession, torn between her beliefs and what she had unknowingly come to learn. As she reads words of her son's love for both her and Bucky, Sarah finally realises something that has the possibility to change the world.

Bucky may have been a demon, but he was not a monster, he was not _inhuman._ He was as capable of love as the best of humanity, and Steve loved him more than anyone. Perhaps it was Steve's love that changed him, for surely demons inherently lack such emotions? Sarah isn't sure... But whatever the obstacles they had passed to get to the point where love flourished their every action, at the end of it all, the only thing that matters is that their love was very much, excruciatingly real. It was not one sided, for Sarah has witnessed their love first hand. And those emotions, that _love,_ surely overrides everything one might have thought about the beings of darkness.

        

“ _Love. Yes, I have undeniably fallen in love._

_This will be hard to hear, but demons are not what we think. They are more human than we have ever been since the Demon War came into our realm._

_Demons are more intelligent than we believed, and we should learn from them, just as they should learn from us. But most importantly, we should learn from ourselves._

_The mistakes of our past should not continue to be made._

_It is time for change to occur._

_It is time we learn from our mistakes._

_For the one that I love (and love I know it is) is someone who I could not openly show my love for in fear of us being forced apart. That constant fear of being separated has haunted me since we first met. Perhaps it was not love at first, for how foolish would that have been? But something blossomed and it surely became love._

_You may think me strange, perhaps even insane, when I tell you that the one I love is a demon._

_A creature of darkness, one so powerful they could have destroyed everything... Yet they chose not to._

_They have protected me in absence of any demands to do so._

_An intelligent mind, far greater than any of us ever imagined, not just how calculated they can be, but because of the emotions they too can feel._

_Pain. Anger. Regret. Hope. Desire. Anxiety. Happiness. Sadness. Fear._

_And Love._

_A demon is capable of feeling all of this._

_I am not under any spell of any kind, my emotions towards my demon are of my own free will._

_How could I possibly know this? A powerful demon has powerful mind tricks._

_But our bond is so powerful, so strong, that our emotions cannot be hidden from the other. They entwine together in a natural synchrony, and I can feel his love for me. It is something I have felt for a long time, yet I could not name._

_He taught me about the demon realm, and ultimately, his life. In return, I taught him about our ways. He often became confused with human culture, just as I became intrigued by his. We would spends hours sharing our history and I have learned so much from him._

_Demons are not creatures we need to fear._

_It is time our fears evolve into something new._

_Perhaps not the love that I have felt, but perhaps something similar._

_Inside this journal, in my own words, is everything I have been taught by my demon about his realm. Read it, and think to yourself: are they truly the animalistic monsters that for centuries we have believed them to be?_

_If you are reading this, it is likely that I am dead. We have been fighting a war for so long, but now it is over. If I died in the arms of my demon -and this I hope- then I know that I would have died being held in the arms of the one I love._

_Use what I have written to change our ways, and I know that we will survive for centuries to come. Alongside demons, we shall live. But first, we need to actually understand the beings who we have surrounded ourselves with. It's time for us to take the first steps._

_A step out of the darkness, and a step towards peace._

“Those are the words of one Steven Rogers, a soldier who was previously registered to the New York Military Academy, specialising in the demon programme. We spoke to his supervisor earlier, though unfortunately Mr Fury couldn't be here today. However, he was kind enough to provide us with some details of Steven.” A high cheek-boned man with sleek, black hair sets the paper in his tight grasp back onto the desk with a light _thud._ Disregarding their content, he turns to his colleague with bright eyes. “I believe you have that information, Karen.”

“Yes, Steven joined the Academy four years ago at twenty-one years old, where he was bonded to a dark class demon. Reportedly a warrior type, and at their most recent analysis, were thought be around level ninety-four,” she explains through pearly whites, their shine contrasting her olive skin and permed brown hair. “Fury informed us that their compatibility was one-hundred percent, which is almost unbelievable. So all in all, not only did Steven bond with a rare demon, but an incredibly powerful one too, and he was actually able to effectively harness that power. Quite incredible, really.” With a quick glance to her co-worker, the man takes the cue to cast his stare to the camera with a more sombre expression.

“However, a few months ago there was a huge demon attack that resulted in many fatalities. Steven's being one of those. Though we do not have the details of the mission, there have been rumours that a death class demon made an appearance, but that Steven eliminated the threat along side his own demon.”

“It's unclear whether the military still have the dark class, or if he died when Steven did,” Karen methodically cuts in, the white lights of the room illuminating them in an almost electronic glow. “Nonetheless, demon attacks are actually down seventy-six percent. But that's not what we're here to talk about today.”

“No. The words Steven left behind have exploded across the internet and have gained an awful lot of attention,” the man pauses to clear his throat. “Since two months ago when his journal was released to the press, there have been hundreds of mixed protests worldwide in response.”

“Not only this, but dozens of soldiers have come forth claiming to have _feelings_ for their bonded demons, and some civilians have even declared seeing intelligence in demons, both bonded and rogue, many stating that they are not 'the ferocious creatures as humanity once thought'.” The woman's sceptical eyes do not go unnoticed by her peer.

“It's certainly a mixed debate. Victims of demon attacks are stating that anthropomorphising demons does nothing to benefit us, and that it's only going to lead to chaos thinking that humans and demons have the potential to live side by side.”

“On the other hand, the _Avengers,_ Steven's previous team, are leading the military movement alongside Fury to promote the humane capture of demons, rather than the kill-on-site policy the military has upheld for years unless there was the opportunity of capturing a rare class of demon.” Numerous images of the _Avengers_ at the academy flash on the large screen behind them, some of them taken by civilians, and others by the press. “They're quickly becoming one of the most successful military units across the world, even with the loss of their leader.”

“Steven's words have certainly seemed to inspire them.”

“Quite so. A Samuel Wilson, one of the _Avengers,_ has said that their actions are lead by Steven's last words, and that they have seen first hand his relationship with his demon, which have supported the statements in his journal.”

“Steven has claimed quite a few things about demons, hasn't he?” The man muses with a curious smirk.

“Yes, one of the things he stated was that demons are capable of _speech._ Here, he expressed the use of a universal demonic language, rather than any human language.”

“He also wrote about the death class demon that he allegedly killed. Stating that the demon had been searching for something within our realm, though what that may have been remains unclear,” he remarks, a frown knitted between his eyes. “However, Steven also mentioned a hierarchy amongst demons, highlighting the command of the death class to force demons into our realm.”

“Which would explain all the demon attacks we've experienced, and with the death class gone, why the number of attacks have lessened considerably,” Karen offers.

“I think we'll leave it there for now, you can read more about the debate and the information released online at-”

Sarah turns the television off with a sigh. It's the same story over and over again. How her only son is a hero, and how he's set the pace for change to occur. Like the first gear to turn in a machine, Steve's actions have created a ripple effect across humanity. However, what the end result will be, isn't something that can be predicted.

It's hard to say what will happen with the demons wandering the human realm, for their purpose in life is still uncertain to humanity. But an integration, of sorts... that's quite certain. Bonded demons are slowly being shown more _respect._ And although it's still a matter of debate whether demons are capable of returning love, they don't seem adverse to receiving it. The formation of relationships between humans and demons is something that needs to be analysed, for if one looks closely, in some instances, a sort of friendship seems to have formed within those bonds.

Some consider it an act of evolution, for these relationships appear more obvious in those with higher level demons. Yet still, it's all very much down to interpretation. And Sarah, she... she supposes that there wasn't really any way for her to have known that her son's lover was his own demon.

It leaves her with a bitter taste in her mouth... until she remembers the looks and gazes the bonded pair had shared with each other. Their love had been obvious, even long before they had even realised that was what it was. For a moment, she had wandered if the demon had merely been manipulating her son, but in her heart, she knows that was not the case. The way that ' _James'_ had smiled at Steve, and the little stolen kisses when they thought she wasn't looking and the longing in them both to hold each other. Those behaviours were nothing but subconscious actions brought about by their emotions. They were not something that could be faked.

Although that makes Sarah feel a little more at ease with the concept that a demon -and a powerful one at that- had been in her home for days at a time, there's still a nauseous sensation in her stomach. But with Steve's death, brings another issue that ponders at the back of her mind: _where is the dark class now?_

        

Darkness.

Complete and utter darkness.

It's everywhere as far as the eye can see, with such density as if there's never been a light to disrupt the shadows.

There's no pain. The darkness is just _there._ It's disorientating, dizzying even, but that doesn't make Steve feel vulnerable.

His pale hands are no longer ruby and sticky with his own blood. Instead, he can feel a tickling warmth running over his knuckles, and a softness under his palm.

Gradually, a fleck of white appears amongst the shadows. Growing like an orb that splits the darkness in two as it expands. Then suddenly, the light silently explodes, like a sheet of snow covering the expanse of his vision. He can't see anything as his eyes adjust to the serene brightness.

_Is he in heaven?_

No, he feels too _alive._

His sight blurred, he can only just identify patches of green surrounding his peripheral edges. A sensation of giddiness makes Steve blink several times to centre himself under the slate of blue that dominates his vision more than the emerald hue. It's as if he's looking right at a clouded ocean, and yet the silkiness under his head has him disorientated, unfocused. But his breaths come easily to him, as if his lungs are no longer being constricted by some thick-muscled snake.

A gentle coolness caresses across his face and forearms, forcing the ends of golden locks into his eyes. But with that, Steve can finally begin to perceive the shapes around him. He can make out each individual blade of grass that reach far above him. If he were to stand, they would surely tickle the very tops of his thighs and the sharpness of his hipbones. The blue above him does not belong to an ocean, but to a sky not shrouded by even the faintest of soft clouds or grey smoke. And in that sky... _oh, its breathtaking..._

Straining to sit up, he finds himself staring at three moon-like structures: one a deep, metallic looking grey, one a more vibrant lilac, and the other a captivating orange. Then, what seems to be the main light-source over the land below the moons in the sky, is a yellow orb embedded with swirls of pink. The shining sphere rests above the tall peeks of snow-capped mountains in the extreme distance.

Moving his gaze to his sides, the edges of the grassy hill he has found himself on appears to be more of a clearing, for enormous trees line the perimeter of all that he can see. The twisted forest contains leaves of reds, golds and greens that gleam like crystals. Forcing himself to a wobbled stand, directly in front of him, Steve can see how the tree line breaks apart as the grassy slope continues. It allows him to see the massive, ethereal blue lake at the bottom of the mountains.

 _It's not a dream._ Even with how surreal it all is, for Steve feels more alive than he has ever felt. As if some immense energy is fizzing in each and every one of his cells.

Steve abruptly turns at the sound of the grass shifting apart behind him, his breaths becoming more uneven. A tall figure is walking ever so closer to him. Brown hair frames his face down to the chiselled jawline dotted with stubble. Those broad muscles are framed by black-feathered wings that drape through the grass with every step. Clad only in dark jeans, the demon wanders nearer with silver-flecked eyes that have locked with Steve's own.

And when Bucky smiles... Steve knows it is not a dream. He's chest is instantly filled with an overwhelming affection- an eternal love for the demon.

His soul may be wrapped in darkness, but he is very much _alive._

Though shocked, Steve yearns for no more, and no less than to bury himself in Bucky's arms. Especially with that devilish smirk lining those lips, Steve feels so very safe in the demon's presence, and he cannot help but smile back in nothing but happiness.

“I promised you, my little warrior... that I would never let you go.”

_**The End... of the Beginning.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Questions? Theories? Great! The answers you seek will all come in due time!


	45. Acknowledgements

**Special Announcement**

Thank you for reading this story until the end... of the beginning. There's still a whole realm of this universe for us to yet explore. And with that in mind, I would like to announce that The Demon Bond, will be having a sequel.

I've kept this quiet for, honestly, since the very first notes I made for this story. It will follow straight on from where chapter forty-four left us, with Steve and Bucky reuniting in... yes indeed...the Netherworld. The plot is already figured out, and it won't be as long as The Demon Bond, but I think it will be exciting, and I hope it will make an interesting read. All your questions about demons and their realm will be answered in the sequel, which will begin to be released after The Origin of Shadows is fully uploaded (more on that down below). _Cheeky preview of The Demon Bond II:_

“ “Steve, listen to me. You don't understand... You're dead. You can't go back to your life in the military... You can't go back to your mother,” the demon pleads, begging for Steve's eyes to find his own.

“No! If I'm dead than how can I be... It doesn't make any sense.” The younger man's voice trembles, his breaths uneven and shallow. The _thump thump thump_ of his heart echoes in Bucky's ears like a siren.

“Steve?” The demon gently calls out to him, concern edging into his voice as the blond clutches his own chest.

“I... I can't breathe.” ”

 

**The Origin of Shadows**

So I've worked out The Origin of Shadows will have around 6 parts/chapters to it. I've decided to do chapters rather than post the whole thing at once basically so you can continue reading more of The Demon Bond universe sooner rather than later. It'll answer a lot of questions concerning Bucky's past, and the choices he made within The Demon Bond. _Here's a preview!:_

“The world has always contained darkness. Black mists and the obscurity of reflections in the deepest embodiments of water. Within endless abysses that crack right into the core of the world. In the wide sky that at times hides the stars that shine with life. Like something cruel and sinister waiting to strike and yet...at what moment... does it turn to light?

But darkness, is all Bucky sees. Blurring his vision in a cold embrace as if he's buried under a mountain of snow that reaches the outermost atmosphere.

A white light startles him, and two lilac orbs glow from the darkness around him. He doesn't know what they are... but he knows that he feels safe with their presence. Gradually, more light filters through in the form of blue crystals staggered on the insides of a cave wall. They illuminate the figure kneeling before him, over him as if he's some tiny creature to inspect. Although the being with purple eyes is hazy to him, he can still make out the white, kind smile they show him before they begin to fade out. Becoming replaced by the darkness once more.”

Exciting? I hope so aha I'll be changing The Demon Bond into the series option (once I figure out how to do that ahaha) and adding The Origin of Shadows to it. I'll be doing that and **uploading the first part SUNDAY 22** **nd** **APRIL!****

 

**Translations**

**Chapter Thirty**

“Zah,” the light class rumbles, voice so deep it vibrates in his chest,“qae teaeae-see oh-raoheay-fe.”

 _So, we meet again_ **  
**

“Raah,” Bucky says lowly at last, something that the blond understands. He is telling the light class to _leave._

 

“Wae eayz teaeoh,” the dark class bitterly snarls, drawing the other demon's attention back to him.

_He is mine._

 

“Weayz zahee-de eayz ooah-aelz?”The light class cocks his head like a confused dog, before appearing to disregard Bucky's words. Steve knows that his words are said nothing but mockingly. “Eh-seez fah-see.”

 _His soul his yours? It's not._ **  
**

Then, the demon turns serious, he glares at them, his next words a bite and there is no doubt that it is a threat intended purely for Bucky.

“Teohooxae ee-see ohee-bay-luoff-see yot-tae.”

 _Maybe I should take it._ ********

**Chapter Forty-Two**

“Give the _zaid_ to me. You won't need it when you're dead.”

_Here, where Loki says 'zaid', it means 'soul'.*_

 

*There will be more about 'souls' in The Origin of Shadows and The Demon Bond sequel.

 

**Special Thanks.**

Thank you all so much! Without your support, this story wouldn't have been possible. Your kind words have encouraged me, and I am glad to say that I feel I have grown as a writer. It's hard to believe that it was back in September of 2016 that I uploaded the first chapter of The Demon Bond. I never once expected such a response from so many wonderful people. Whether you've been here from the beginning, or if you've only just found this story, I appreciate you all, and I am thankful for you all in taking this journey with me.

Saying that, I would like to say a few more quick, personal thank you's... (I hope it won't be _too_ embarrassing by putting your user names). :)

'DreamingoftheBlackVoid'- you were the first person to comment on The Demon Bond, and your enthusiastic comments have never failed to make me smile!

'Stupidly8_9Emotional'- you are also a reader who has been following the story since the very beginning, and your constant support has really meant a lot to me over this year and a half (where did that time go? haha). Your kind words always light up my day, and I'm pretty sure you've commented on basically every update, which I appreciate more than I can possibly put into words.

'Saheed'- thank you for your continued support, and for pointing out the mistakes I fail to notice! You've taught me a few things about writing, so thank you for that!!

'Atlantis_Jackson'- whenever you comment, your paragraphs of endless kind words and enthusiasm always make me smile and laugh!

I would also like to thank Alyan, Wntrsol78, yvngp, kiki, sa77ra, Machka, Rancid_Rat186, Sky, Tequila84, Trick, aireagoir, Annaslug, Kiki, Incognito_Burrito, Bxtswoman, TheAppleShow, skei_ships, TheVillain, WanderYonder, Seraphimshay, PhantomAvenger, kookiepup12, zephyrism, CosmoKid, applegoo, 108157m, Avengermama and MarvelMakesMeFeelThings for your support- although you have all varied in when you've come across the story, you've all commented quite a few times, and your comments have made me smile when I see that you're all as invested in this story as I am. (I'm probably going to end up keep adding to this, because all of you are just so amazing, honestly!)

And, thank you so much to everyone who has left a Kudo or comment(s) on the story throughout this year and a half, whether a year ago, or just the other day, thank you! Everyone's comments honestly mean the world to me and I could sit here thanking each of you and it would take days because there's so many of you wonderful people! I am honestly, so very grateful. I didn't really expect 100 kudos, and no we're here at over 1400*, more than 260,000 words later? Absolutely crazy to think about.

Okay, that's it from me! I hope to see you all in The Origin of Shadows. Although I'll connect it to this as a series, I'll also post the link down below when the first part has been uploaded, although it'll also be announced on the Tumblr and IG accounts when it goes up. I hope you'll look forward to that, as well as the sequel! 

Thank you :)

~ValentineDevil

 

Note: *Now over 1500 kudos!!! Thank you!!! ♥

_****The Origin of Shadows has now been released: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14397051/** _

_**The Demon Bond two has now been released: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15132398/** _

**Author's Note:**

> **Older chapters are currently being edited (only grammar, spelling and slight changes are being made) so do bear with some mistakes in the chapters until I get through them all (although if you do spot a spelling error in recent chapters, please let me know!) Also, mini summaries of previous chapters are being added! :)  
> Chapters edited: #1-21 Chapters with summaries: #1-43 (complete).
> 
> Thank you for taking the time to read, have a lovely day!
> 
> Tumblr: https://thedemonbond.tumblr.com  
> IG: https://www.instagram.com/thedemonbond/


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